we don't even ask for happiness; just a little less pain
"I don't know where I am."
It comes from behind a rush of water, behind the pounding of the waterfall. Sweet serenades, reaching fingers through the torrents and into the alchemist's mind. A familiar voice, rough and uncertain, ravaged by sleeplessness. Is he sleeping now? Is he dead?
Does it matter?
"I can't see the light." The voice echoes out again. As if it is right next to Remi, reaching for something. Reaching for him, perhaps. And there's a stumbling behind the waterfall - a rock falls out, plunking into the red water below. What will happen, if whoever stands within staggers right into the reaching, grabbing lichen below?
It might be a release - who knows?
It comes from behind a rush of water, behind the pounding of the waterfall. Sweet serenades, reaching fingers through the torrents and into the alchemist's mind. A familiar voice, rough and uncertain, ravaged by sleeplessness. Is he sleeping now? Is he dead?
Does it matter?
"I can't see the light." The voice echoes out again. As if it is right next to Remi, reaching for something. Reaching for him, perhaps. And there's a stumbling behind the waterfall - a rock falls out, plunking into the red water below. What will happen, if whoever stands within staggers right into the reaching, grabbing lichen below?
It might be a release - who knows?
FINN
