awareness is the enemy of sanity
Finn is on the beach.
Finn was in bed.
And now he is on the beach.
These two things do not correlate.
Whilst he remembers getting up, remembers getting dressed, writing letters, eating breakfast, it feels faintly like it has happened to somebody else. Like he has been watching it quietly, until this point.
Perhaps it is because now that he is on the beach, he does not know what to do next. Touching a hand briefly to his glasses, he becomes aware that he stands in the middle of someone else’s aura. It’s a dark thing, this one - a powerful thing, speckled through with light and grief and hurt.
Finn recognises it, and as he glances up he finds the man it belongs to. The man who wears his face.
He has approached Remi before his feet can tell him otherwise, brow furrowed. ”What are you making?” The question leaves him - he cannot snatch it back.
Finn was in bed.
And now he is on the beach.
These two things do not correlate.
Whilst he remembers getting up, remembers getting dressed, writing letters, eating breakfast, it feels faintly like it has happened to somebody else. Like he has been watching it quietly, until this point.
Perhaps it is because now that he is on the beach, he does not know what to do next. Touching a hand briefly to his glasses, he becomes aware that he stands in the middle of someone else’s aura. It’s a dark thing, this one - a powerful thing, speckled through with light and grief and hurt.
Finn recognises it, and as he glances up he finds the man it belongs to. The man who wears his face.
He has approached Remi before his feet can tell him otherwise, brow furrowed. ”What are you making?” The question leaves him - he cannot snatch it back.
for once you hear the screaming
it never stops
FINN
