Maea
And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die
It heals them when you die
It was strange to be back. Under the overcast skies everything looked exactly as gray and dreary as she recalled. Broken buildings and piles of ancient debris interspersed with the eked out shops and dwellings of a people that had once been hers. She had walked these streets before, so many times that the turns could be taken with closed eyes. And she did look away at times. From the Chandrakant bakery, closed and empty with dust in the display window. And away from Wordsworth Books - that one hurt in a different way.
When a thin drizzle began to fall, Maea found shelter in a ruined doorway and watched the marketplace with a distant expression. Habitually pulling her dark ragged coat tight against a chill she didn't really feel, she tried not to hate everything she saw.
It was difficult. If only because easing off the resentment opened up for other emotions. Sharp and jagged, a pile of broken glass in her mind, just waiting to be stepped on.
When a thin drizzle began to fall, Maea found shelter in a ruined doorway and watched the marketplace with a distant expression. Habitually pulling her dark ragged coat tight against a chill she didn't really feel, she tried not to hate everything she saw.
It was difficult. If only because easing off the resentment opened up for other emotions. Sharp and jagged, a pile of broken glass in her mind, just waiting to be stepped on.
And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh
A whisper within a sigh
