Up there with all that possibility.
Each one means something.
He lies back against the red grass and imagines it.
Imagines everything that could be there.
Worlds of swirling infinity.
Skies that burn.
People made of smoke.
Cities made of song.
His back is against the ground.
He wants his feet to be against the vortex.
He ran from the vortex when he was eight.
Now he imagines it when he dreams.
Universes out there, offering their hand to him.
"Come with me."
Who is he to say no?
Stay here, on this world?
He despises this sterility.
Gallifrey is a platonic bedmate who refuses to touch or caress.
Plain and untouched.
The stars are a rumpled and unpredictable lover.
With a crooked smile and an oversized nose and wild blonde hair.
A little messy.
A little worn.
But he's always preferred a woman who knows what time it is.
Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 167