NYC
Is life something that you play; All the time waiting to get rid of it?
He told me he was leaving to go find the Hellcat. My eyes only widened and closed in response. [I am not your keeper; why do you tell me these things?] What could I say? In the gaping hole where my soul lived, there was only promise of myriad destruction. And so I nodded in acknowledgement to his words and walked with Solan instead.
He has taken me up on my offer of hospitality. The first step at least, in the mindlessly slow process of building a foundation. War destroys everything. But it also has the side effect of uniting those who would willfully be separate. Perhaps it is not such a bad thing.
Solan was far more interesting than I originally suspected. The shadowed moon did nothing for my participation in our discourse. I merely questioned, and prodded, a poor man’s Socrates. Listening to games of high and lower roads, and finally I asked him [..have you ever heard of the first Covenant, before the four of present day?] so lightly did those words float past my lips, gently…
Gently.
I felt his fingers in my mind, and played the innocent. Somehow even afterwards everything felt so dirty, so stained by the touch of his thoughts, I have washed my hands seven times in one night. The white bubbles are comforting, as is the skin rubbed pink. I bathe in bleach, and burning water…
Later I will sit down to write three letters. Tomorrow’s calendar promises very little, research and lesson plans, critiques and then… Oh. A visit to a small hounfour in Brooklyn.
Perhaps a little hope after all.
He told me he was leaving to go find the Hellcat. My eyes only widened and closed in response. [I am not your keeper; why do you tell me these things?] What could I say? In the gaping hole where my soul lived, there was only promise of myriad destruction. And so I nodded in acknowledgement to his words and walked with Solan instead.
He has taken me up on my offer of hospitality. The first step at least, in the mindlessly slow process of building a foundation. War destroys everything. But it also has the side effect of uniting those who would willfully be separate. Perhaps it is not such a bad thing.
Solan was far more interesting than I originally suspected. The shadowed moon did nothing for my participation in our discourse. I merely questioned, and prodded, a poor man’s Socrates. Listening to games of high and lower roads, and finally I asked him [..have you ever heard of the first Covenant, before the four of present day?] so lightly did those words float past my lips, gently…
Gently.
I felt his fingers in my mind, and played the innocent. Somehow even afterwards everything felt so dirty, so stained by the touch of his thoughts, I have washed my hands seven times in one night. The white bubbles are comforting, as is the skin rubbed pink. I bathe in bleach, and burning water…
Later I will sit down to write three letters. Tomorrow’s calendar promises very little, research and lesson plans, critiques and then… Oh. A visit to a small hounfour in Brooklyn.
Perhaps a little hope after all.