awareness is the enemy of sanity
There’s a distinct impression that what is being said is secret, important, sacred almost. And Finn’s world has reduced down to a foggy haze of blurred lines and Remi’s accented voice, carrying the story along in a curiously musical way. It’s a tragedy, one that Finn feels deeply in his bones. He forms apologies on lips that no longer have the coherence to say them; he feels his chest burn like he also bears the scar that Remi touches. Aoife - a whimsical name for another dead child.
And they’re there again, those three pale little faces, drowned but not, and Finn’s pulse rockets and he nearly surges to sit up to get away from it. Only pain prevents him, squeezing forcefully around his ribs, and he relaxes back, his breathing laboured. ”So much death in your life,” he grates out, the words thick in his mouth. ”How do you manage?”
And they’re there again, those three pale little faces, drowned but not, and Finn’s pulse rockets and he nearly surges to sit up to get away from it. Only pain prevents him, squeezing forcefully around his ribs, and he relaxes back, his breathing laboured. ”So much death in your life,” he grates out, the words thick in his mouth. ”How do you manage?”
for once you hear the screaming
it never stops
FINN
