30.12 - someone from Lost
Jan. 1st, 2008 02:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
psocopteraSpoilers for Lost through end of Season Three. I tried to come up with a way to make this intelligible to non-Lost-watchers but was stumped; it just rests way too heavily on those various spoilers. Someone out there watches Lost, right?
Hurley was opening his birthday presents.
"And it's... a can of Dharma baked beans! Wow! And here we have... a box of Dharma macaroni! Gee, you shouldn't have! And... oh, man, thirty cans of Dharma soda, individually wrapped in leaves! I get it, for my thirtieth birthday... pretty creative, there!"
He laughed until he had to wipe his eyes. "But, ok, really, now I should thank everybody. I know we can't be sure it's really my birthday, I might be off by as much as three weeks, but, hey, that's less than two percent, I'm really glad we can overlook it and celebrate like this. "Act as if", that's what they used to say at the institution. So, thank you, everybody. Thank you Sun, and thank you Jack for everything, and thank you Kate and Sayid and Desmond and Locke and even you, Sawyer, and thank you so much Rose and Bernard, and Charlie, and Libby, and Grandpa, and Mom and Dad, and thank you everybody else, everybody out there."
He looked down at the containers of Dharma food and the creased and curled leaves that had enwrapped them, and then past them, up and down the beach.
"Thank you Others, I guess, if anyone's out there listening after all this time. Thank you Jacob, if you can hear me from down here... I really am going to come play some more backgammon soon, I just needed a little break, man. You're a fine opponent, but the way it looks like the pieces are moving by themselves? I just never get used to that, and it seems rude to look away, and, sometimes I just wish that even if I can't see you I could, you know, hear you. I sure appreciate the whole "drawing lines in the dust" thing but sometimes it would just be really nice to hear another voice. I mean, I'm really sorry I can't, dude. Because, another voice... it's kind of been awhile, you know?"
He looked out at the empty sands of the beach, stretching out blankly on both sides. When the rescue had come, they'd put him at the end of the line for the helicopter. They'd said his weight would be too hard to balance crammed in with other people, and so he'd waited, alone, while the last load of his fellow castaways took off and flew away.
The helicopter had simply never returned. He had waited there for two full weeks before he finally gave up.
The ninety-three days before the rescue had seemed like years; it was strange to think they had been such a small fraction of his life here.
But that was a thought for a remembrance day, not a birthday, and so Hurley lit the twig in the top of his Dharma-brand twinkie, and sang: "Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me..."
Hurley was opening his birthday presents.
"And it's... a can of Dharma baked beans! Wow! And here we have... a box of Dharma macaroni! Gee, you shouldn't have! And... oh, man, thirty cans of Dharma soda, individually wrapped in leaves! I get it, for my thirtieth birthday... pretty creative, there!"
He laughed until he had to wipe his eyes. "But, ok, really, now I should thank everybody. I know we can't be sure it's really my birthday, I might be off by as much as three weeks, but, hey, that's less than two percent, I'm really glad we can overlook it and celebrate like this. "Act as if", that's what they used to say at the institution. So, thank you, everybody. Thank you Sun, and thank you Jack for everything, and thank you Kate and Sayid and Desmond and Locke and even you, Sawyer, and thank you so much Rose and Bernard, and Charlie, and Libby, and Grandpa, and Mom and Dad, and thank you everybody else, everybody out there."
He looked down at the containers of Dharma food and the creased and curled leaves that had enwrapped them, and then past them, up and down the beach.
"Thank you Others, I guess, if anyone's out there listening after all this time. Thank you Jacob, if you can hear me from down here... I really am going to come play some more backgammon soon, I just needed a little break, man. You're a fine opponent, but the way it looks like the pieces are moving by themselves? I just never get used to that, and it seems rude to look away, and, sometimes I just wish that even if I can't see you I could, you know, hear you. I sure appreciate the whole "drawing lines in the dust" thing but sometimes it would just be really nice to hear another voice. I mean, I'm really sorry I can't, dude. Because, another voice... it's kind of been awhile, you know?"
He looked out at the empty sands of the beach, stretching out blankly on both sides. When the rescue had come, they'd put him at the end of the line for the helicopter. They'd said his weight would be too hard to balance crammed in with other people, and so he'd waited, alone, while the last load of his fellow castaways took off and flew away.
The helicopter had simply never returned. He had waited there for two full weeks before he finally gave up.
The ninety-three days before the rescue had seemed like years; it was strange to think they had been such a small fraction of his life here.
But that was a thought for a remembrance day, not a birthday, and so Hurley lit the twig in the top of his Dharma-brand twinkie, and sang: "Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me..."
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-01-01 05:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-02 03:29 am (UTC)