Neron
the wind breathes lonely
longing to be seen
longing to be seen
Chuy is up late/early, and Neron doesn’t need to sleep. Neron also doesn’t remember how he found himself sitting on the front steps of the Kraai in the snow at this time of day-night, but that’s par for the course at this point. Time bleeds into nothingness as an Ascended, and this seems even more the case when the sun never sets. That’s what he’s putting his confusion down to; who wouldn’t be perplexed, when the world is doing this?
It doesn’t explain the persistent urge to pull down the hood of his coat and stare directly into the burning twilight, though, but those aren’t the sort of questions one asks oneself, right? He’s not cold, at least. He doesn’t feel the cold, which is good because he’s been feeling pretty cold lately regardless, though the flush to his cheeks suggests something else is afoot.
He’s tapping a foot against the bottom step of the Kraai’s opening when Chuy passes by, the man recognisable by being the only one around. ”Lot of ningos for one guy,” he remarks, smooth as you like.
It doesn’t explain the persistent urge to pull down the hood of his coat and stare directly into the burning twilight, though, but those aren’t the sort of questions one asks oneself, right? He’s not cold, at least. He doesn’t feel the cold, which is good because he’s been feeling pretty cold lately regardless, though the flush to his cheeks suggests something else is afoot.
He’s tapping a foot against the bottom step of the Kraai’s opening when Chuy passes by, the man recognisable by being the only one around. ”Lot of ningos for one guy,” he remarks, smooth as you like.
sometimes the soul
has days like these
has days like these
