{jp} picture - full moon
I pay attention to full moons. I've always paid attention to full moons...they were bringers of death once upon a time. They still are.
Difference is, when the full moon comes, I'm no longer Death's delivery service.
Full moons make me a bit testy. They bring the smell of grass and dew back to my memory. Black dirt under white milky light, shadows and snarls of some animal with designs on ripping out my throat. It doesn't matter that he was once a man or woman with a family and a good heart. The curse robs them of anything I'm obligated to respect, pity, or even care about.
The world is too bright under the full moon, too goddamn visible. The night is for darkness, for hiding. Moonlight exposes the beast that lives in the blood of every living thing, makes killers of God's own and executioners of simple soldiers.
I used to pay attention to full moons because if I didn't? I'd end up dead. One false move, one blow I don't duck or a wound suffered when there's no holy water to be had...one slip and it was fucking curtains for my sorry ass. Now? I pay attention because he would have.
Father, brother, teacher, lover...if he were here now, he'd be one of the cursed. One of the damned.
And he'd be watching the full moon like a hawk.
Difference is, when the full moon comes, I'm no longer Death's delivery service.
Full moons make me a bit testy. They bring the smell of grass and dew back to my memory. Black dirt under white milky light, shadows and snarls of some animal with designs on ripping out my throat. It doesn't matter that he was once a man or woman with a family and a good heart. The curse robs them of anything I'm obligated to respect, pity, or even care about.
The world is too bright under the full moon, too goddamn visible. The night is for darkness, for hiding. Moonlight exposes the beast that lives in the blood of every living thing, makes killers of God's own and executioners of simple soldiers.
I used to pay attention to full moons because if I didn't? I'd end up dead. One false move, one blow I don't duck or a wound suffered when there's no holy water to be had...one slip and it was fucking curtains for my sorry ass. Now? I pay attention because he would have.
Father, brother, teacher, lover...if he were here now, he'd be one of the cursed. One of the damned.
And he'd be watching the full moon like a hawk.