Work Text:
Title: Unfolding
Author: kernel
Blair ran his fingers over the final fold and looked critically at the paper crane. Damp printer paper didn't give as good a result as kami paper but it wasn't bad, he had had lots of practice since his first failed attempt at origami as a five year old. Blair smiled ruefully at the memory.
He didn't recall where he had been exactly. Some Mediterranean port, perhaps. He remembered a blazing sun, people talking around and above him in languages he didn't understand. He had tired of watching the boats on the quayside and had been studying the tourists at the bustling fish restaurant across the square. One pretty dark haired lady had caught his eye and smiled at him and he had almost wandered over to see if she would offer him a drink but Naomi had told him to stay put. He was resting his head on his knees, drowsy in the hot sun when a hand on his shoulder made him look up and the pretty lady was offering him a bottle of water and a paper bird.
"For luck," she said, pressing the bird into his hand.
He had been entranced by the delicate paper construction and had played with it throughout that long, hot afternoon. Finally, overcome with curiosity, he had carefully unwrapped the folds and examined the creases. He could still remember his tears of frustration as his chubby fingers tried and failed to put it together again. He was still crying when Naomi reappeared and he had tried to reassure her that of course he wasn't upset with her; of course, he knew she was coming back but he had broken his bird. It was spoiled and it was all his fault.
Blair sighed. Even as a child he couldn't just enjoy a beautiful object, a miracle of creation for its own sake. No, instead he had to look inside and pull it apart, poking and prodding until he destroyed the very thing he was studying. He brushed his hand across his eyes and gathered his few soggy failed attempts, tossing them in the waste paper basket along with the rest of his first draft. As bad as he felt right now he couldn't help smiling as he recalled the look on the faces of his dissertation committee when he explained his subject had read the first chapter. Old Prof McGuire couldn't have been more disapproving if he'd announced he'd slept with his subject.
Not that there was any chance of that happening. Not now. It was over: the dissertation, his doctorate, everything.
Blair wondered what Jim would make of the paper crane. Would he realise it was the first page of his dissertation? Not likely, Blair snorted. Jim took things at face value. He'd just chalk it up to one more Sandburg oddity. No matter. It felt right somehow.
Blair placed the loft key on the kitchen table next to the paper crane, took a last look round the loft and left.