(Untitled)

[endlessdel]

"One, two, three, eighty million, four hundred and forty four, pi, six point six recurring..." Delirium counted, pale hands covering her eyes so she could not see. Delirium peeked seeing a familiar smile, those bloodied hands. Delirium closed her eyes again, counting louder alternating languages to keep them away. Brown sack for a face, sewn up

Comments

[radical_cowgirl]

"Don't cry, color-lady." Edward hid behind a nearby tree as she watched all the pretty colors and people and light appear and disappear. It was all so chaotic and wonderful Ed didn't know what to make of it. At the center was the lady with the pretty hair, the one that made the wonderful cookies and treats for everyone. Someone who made such wonderful things couldn't be sad, could she?

Maybe she could, the adult people were strange sometimes.

[endlessdel]

"I'm not crying, am I? I am. Oh, I'm sad, I'm happy. No, I'm happy and sad and mad and bad and- she left, she left me all alone." Del said touching Delight's cheek or trying to. Her fingers slipped through her cheek, and head touching thin air though the image remained. She was beautiful and happy but there was an oldness in her eyes and a sadness too. They were both too old but she would always be the oldest and Delirium would always be the youngest. "She's me. I'm her. But we're not the same."

[radical_cowgirl]

"Edward thinks she understands." And for a wonder she actually did. Little people became big people, like everyone on the island switched that one time. They all became different people, but they were the same people.

And sometimes other people left, too.

"Ed thinks you're pretty. Both of you. Lots of pretty colors."

[endlessdel]

"I was all the colours at home even the ones people can't see. At home I am more than this, I am more than human but being human is more hard then being me." Delirium said, sliding her hand through the hologram of Delight. Delight shifted, changing with the wind into Delirium. Or at least one of her aspect. "I was the dreadful things that creep in the corner of your vision when you are alone at night. The statues you swore move but blink and they are still again. I am all those things. Everything and nothing and now human. Humans taste like chicken so they say."