memory’s so treacherous
Finn has learned to savour these afternoons with his son. The Spyglass has undergone something of a transformation ever since the boy had been born, and these days his life is as carefree and simple as it likely ever will be. Certainly more than he had any right to expect, given his life, his story up until now. And so it's with a breezy sort of simplicity that he stands in his office, the falling snow outside casting pale light which mingles with the warm gold of the lanterns.
"Very good," he praises Everest, smiling down at him and pushing up the sleeves of his cable knit sweater. "When cleaning, it is best to work from the top downwards. The dust will fall down," he explains. "Would you like to start with the bookcase, or the desk?"
"Very good," he praises Everest, smiling down at him and pushing up the sleeves of his cable knit sweater. "When cleaning, it is best to work from the top downwards. The dust will fall down," he explains. "Would you like to start with the bookcase, or the desk?"
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
FINN
