Helping Hands
This ... oh, this is from so long ago. So very long ago. Right back to the beginning. A robot and a madman, and I hadn't even a name yet, and he was barely hanging on to his, and I should never even have noticed him, really, but those hands were the first ... the first to touch me with something like caring, and I don't think I've ever looked back since. I don't think I ever have.
( Helping Hands )
( Helping Hands )
Never Show Your Hand
The prompt seemed to fit a very old memory. And a very precious one. From earth, the first time. From the first moment of our freedom, my beloved and I.
( Never show your hand ... )
( Never show your hand ... )
The judgement of others
"I am, as I am; whether hideous, or handsome, depends on who is made judge." -- Herman Melville
As my beloved appears to be telling everyone I've snapped at over the last while (my apologies), old pain is riding close to the surface with me recently. *smiles wryly* I fear I've been rapidly eroding my reputation as the calm one in this relationship. *laughs* But I am, generally. The difference is, you see, Dowling is all flash and bang, rapid anger. He couldn't hold a grudge if you paid him, and has always managed to somehow let all the hate in the universe roll off him.
Me? I hold grudges. Long and cold and slow. *dark little smile* People who judge us ... well. Let me show you. I believe my beloved has even mentioned the incident to you. In passing.
( Judgement )
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