memory’s so treacherous
If it’s a pleasure, Finn has all sorts of skewed ideas about what pleasant means. He keeps hold of his glass, feeling eyes on him from a small creature sitting at her master’s heels, it he doesn’t look. There are too many things going on around him all of a sudden, and it’s easier to use Sunjata as an anchor for his attention. ”Are you one of those people?” he asks, his tone frank, his stormy gaze fixed on the man who does not look at him.
Too many conversations, lately, have tried to tease at where he’s from, inquire about his business in Torchline, and Finn is beginning to feel like it’s a habit that the people of Torchline all possess; wanting to know all about outsiders. ”That’s right,” he says, offering nothing more to punctuate Sunjata’s assumptions. ”You are from around here. Else you would not have asked.”
Too many conversations, lately, have tried to tease at where he’s from, inquire about his business in Torchline, and Finn is beginning to feel like it’s a habit that the people of Torchline all possess; wanting to know all about outsiders. ”That’s right,” he says, offering nothing more to punctuate Sunjata’s assumptions. ”You are from around here. Else you would not have asked.”
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
FINN
