It depends a bit on the weather, but I’m mostly packed, I’ve cooked food that’s currently waiting in the freezer, and I have acquired the third Diane Mott Davidson book to read.
The plan is to leave work early, catch the train to the campground, camp overnight, and in the morning hike out to a different train station further down the line, about a seven-mile trek, to do a longer endurance test than last weekend’s. Then I’ll catch the train home around noon on Saturday.
If something goes wrong, I can catch an evening train home on Friday until eight o’clock, or starting in the morning at 5:30, with little to no exertion. It’s pretty low-risk and I’m well stocked. I don’t have a sleeping pad, but my backpack has a partial one built-in, and I have one arriving tomorrow (though it might be too bulky, we’ll see). And honestly in this heat, I might just sleep on top of my sleeping bag in any case.
Worst case scenario, the campground has heated, lockable shower cubicles with nice big floors. I’ve slept on worse.
Caaaaaaamping! *jazz hands*
from Tumblr http://ift.tt/2uB78KA
Author: bedamn (I think)
Length: ~5700 words
Author's summary: He dreams, in between the waking moments where his vision blurs, and he sees all manners of things that should be impossible. (In which Sherlock isn't human, except when he is.)
Reccer's remarks: I saved this from an LJ collection as an HTML doc back in the day; it seems to have been scrubbed from the Internet, including most of the parts posted on the prompting meme, but I can't find any reference to the author's objecting to saved copies being shared. So I'm sharing; the link goes to the HTML doc, and be forewarned that some of the character formatting came out wonky-ugly. I don't know how to fix it.
Further qualifications: S1 characterizations, which may not feel quite right after S4 or even S3, for those of you who took a pass on S4. Obligatory in-passing episode review that everyone does early in a fandom and that seems stale seven and a half years later. A beta to pick up the malapropisms would have been helpful. Oh, gosh, there are all kinds of flaws -- grammatical, structural ...
... And, all of that having been said, the central image, which is not exactly of Sherlock's wings, is still breathtakingly poignant after all this time. Ultimately I'd call "Gamayun" a perfect example of the truth that a story can have any number of technical faults and yet be alive, as many technically perfect works are not.
He was nothing if not meticulous. From the moment he was able, he scoured every source of possible information imaginable, consuming it until his mind was sluggish, bloated with it. It was all just trivia on the genetic theory, spanning across to all manners of the world's many vast mythologies, and he despised it. He loathed the way it preoccupied him, and the apparent uselessness of every single part of it he took upon himself to memorise. And yet, he hungered and devoured until it was all that his mind was capable of processing - and then he went further, increasingly desperate to uncover even an iota of proof.
Simply, in accordance with all possible reasoning, humans were not supposed to be born with avian wings.
ETA: Thanks to sanguinity, whose comment explains why the link I originally posted here won't work for anyone but me. /does not always understand her own computer/ unovis , I've made a public post on my personal journal with the text of the story (and a clear disclaimer of authorship so that no one can mistakenly think that I wrote it). If it's okay with you, I'll link back to that post; if you think this is shady, then I'll delete the rec, with apologies.