lights will guide you home, & ignite your bones
& i will try to fix you
& i will try to fix you
"Long way from my heart. I think I'll live." You chuckle dryly. "See? I knew it would be a good idea to have a doctor on this adventure." But as he pushes your shoulder onto his nimbus (your limps spreading out like a frightened cat), you feel very much the patient in this situation and not the doctor. It isn't only because you're the one who was injured, but because you feel so entirely out of control in a way you rarely experience in the clinic.
"I'm so sorry. I really wasn't thinking." Trying to find a way to hold onto the nimbus (how is one meant to grip a cloud?), you eventually sit with your legs crossed, and the balled-up cuff of your sweater pressed against your lip. "I'll speak with Gus about this in the morning." Gus, presumably, being the boat-master. In a world where money didn't exist and favours were everything, you knew well what this little stunt was going to cost you.
"I'm so sorry. I really wasn't thinking." Trying to find a way to hold onto the nimbus (how is one meant to grip a cloud?), you eventually sit with your legs crossed, and the balled-up cuff of your sweater pressed against your lip. "I'll speak with Gus about this in the morning." Gus, presumably, being the boat-master. In a world where money didn't exist and favours were everything, you knew well what this little stunt was going to cost you.
October
