DEIMOS
Morgan’s attempts at a joke almost earned her a snort, but then he was distracted, brows furrowing, forgetting how to best describe his own father. Boisterous? Fire? Had he been a good man? What constituted great, what levels did they have, what prospered one over the other? His mind was shrouded and veiled in convoluted terms, and suddenly it merely ached to be alive, his skull swimming and spinning, too many directions to decipher, too many angles prospered, too many god damned nuances to shake.
A momentary panic, an impulsive notion when he usually was anything but, flooded his presence when Morgan announced she was leaving. He couldn’t fathom why it shook him, why fingers trembled, why he thought about crying out, or why he simply sat there, frozen, a chilling sort of despair wrapped around his insides. Alone. You are always going to be alone. An echo, a glacial expanse wrapping around his neck like a noose, and he knew it was true, and that friends were slim to none now –
And turned to see Chulane still there, still remaining. It’d been too late for him to say thank you, to acknowledge the Warden as she left, and he wanted to curl back in on himself all the more, apologize profusely for everything. “They always leave,” he murmured, maybe to himself, maybe to Chulane, maybe to the walls. “And they do not come back.”
They died. They disappeared. They thought him not worth the time, the effort.
The other man’s assurances were perhaps the only thing that made him ultimately, finally collapse again, relinquishing whatever strength was left into the bed, head hitting the pillow, arms grabbing blankets, eyes closing – trying, trying, trying to not to become a burden to this world too. “I am sorry.” An endless record, as if he said it one more time, it would alleviate the guilt, the shame, and the hurt. “Thank you.”
{FIN}
A momentary panic, an impulsive notion when he usually was anything but, flooded his presence when Morgan announced she was leaving. He couldn’t fathom why it shook him, why fingers trembled, why he thought about crying out, or why he simply sat there, frozen, a chilling sort of despair wrapped around his insides. Alone. You are always going to be alone. An echo, a glacial expanse wrapping around his neck like a noose, and he knew it was true, and that friends were slim to none now –
And turned to see Chulane still there, still remaining. It’d been too late for him to say thank you, to acknowledge the Warden as she left, and he wanted to curl back in on himself all the more, apologize profusely for everything. “They always leave,” he murmured, maybe to himself, maybe to Chulane, maybe to the walls. “And they do not come back.”
They died. They disappeared. They thought him not worth the time, the effort.
The other man’s assurances were perhaps the only thing that made him ultimately, finally collapse again, relinquishing whatever strength was left into the bed, head hitting the pillow, arms grabbing blankets, eyes closing – trying, trying, trying to not to become a burden to this world too. “I am sorry.” An endless record, as if he said it one more time, it would alleviate the guilt, the shame, and the hurt. “Thank you.”
{FIN}
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
