NERON
the hailstorm
He’s notoriously lazy, and yet at this task Neron is tenacious, diligent. It’s like whatever it is that’s calling to him has crawled inside his head, scratching at the inside of his skull, and he’s a slave to answer it now. The ice has soaked through the knees of his pants and he’s resorted to digging with his hands by the time he finds the object, shirt cuffs coated in frost, knuckles crazed and oozing fluid.
”Oho,” he says softly, under his breath, drawing out the chain and lifting the pocket watch to the light where it spins softly. Clicking the mechanism to open it, he’s thoroughly disappointed not to see a clock face inside. ”I see,” he says softly. But of course he doesn’t.
One day he might, though. Carefully tucking the trinket away, Neron rises back to his feet and continues to trek for home. The Tundra is silent again, and he’s long since stopped learning to question it.
~FIN
”Oho,” he says softly, under his breath, drawing out the chain and lifting the pocket watch to the light where it spins softly. Clicking the mechanism to open it, he’s thoroughly disappointed not to see a clock face inside. ”I see,” he says softly. But of course he doesn’t.
One day he might, though. Carefully tucking the trinket away, Neron rises back to his feet and continues to trek for home. The Tundra is silent again, and he’s long since stopped learning to question it.
~FIN
