KORBIN
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
To make you bow and spit it out?
The only reply that came from Korbin was a mumble in acknowledgement, just to make plain he had heard everything. But the night was over, the moment of spilling his thoughts was gone, and the offer to talk more was met with eyes that shifted away and closed, a tense silence that lingered long after Chulane had left the room.
There was no thank you. Whatever agreement had been struck here, whatever realizations or conclusions reached, Korbin was not grateful for them.
He slept the better part of that day. If Chulane returned it was only to find a blacked out lump beneath the sheets, tossing and turning in the throws of bad dreams. At some point Korbin got up to use the restroom, but returned to sleep right away and did not even notice when the cook exchanged the plate with fresh food and emptied the bin. Like a dead, he slept. And as night came again, when he could not sleep anymore, he got up.
When dawn arrived on the next day, Korbin was gone. Cook was kicking up a fuss because her best bottle of cooking sherry had mysteriously vanished, as had the boy's cleaned clothes - and a pair of someone else's boots, because clearly he hadn't been able to find his own. In his room, the bed had been neatly made and the borrowed utensils laid out, and on the table, the food on the plate was half eaten.
It was a failed attempt... but Korbin had tried. And perhaps that was all anyone could ask for at this point.
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- Fin
There was no thank you. Whatever agreement had been struck here, whatever realizations or conclusions reached, Korbin was not grateful for them.
He slept the better part of that day. If Chulane returned it was only to find a blacked out lump beneath the sheets, tossing and turning in the throws of bad dreams. At some point Korbin got up to use the restroom, but returned to sleep right away and did not even notice when the cook exchanged the plate with fresh food and emptied the bin. Like a dead, he slept. And as night came again, when he could not sleep anymore, he got up.
When dawn arrived on the next day, Korbin was gone. Cook was kicking up a fuss because her best bottle of cooking sherry had mysteriously vanished, as had the boy's cleaned clothes - and a pair of someone else's boots, because clearly he hadn't been able to find his own. In his room, the bed had been neatly made and the borrowed utensils laid out, and on the table, the food on the plate was half eaten.
It was a failed attempt... but Korbin had tried. And perhaps that was all anyone could ask for at this point.
----------
- Fin
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
Nothing makes you turn around
