kaimana
how beautiful the leaves grow old
You listen in silence as the Ascended tells you about himself, finally, finally answering your questions, though not before asking more of his own (which you do not answer, uncharacteristically quiet in your sulky unhappiness). You manage to collect your thoughts enough to take mental notes, at least, committing everything he says to memory for review at a later, less irritating time.
Only one pressing question rises to your mind, perhaps the least important one but you're still a little frazzled. "If y'can smell, can you taste?" you ask almost tonelessly, perking up just a little as you wonder whether the connection between those senses has, indeed, been severed.
how full of light and color are their last days
