Melita
Eating fire is your ambition
to swallow the flame down
to swallow the flame down
Something drove out of her, a sharp, incessant thing, a force of derision seeking its way out – and she had to stand, snagging at the bag with her, moving to another spot so she didn’t raise a fist and punch him square in the nose. They didn’t need one more thing to break; and perhaps this shouldn’t have been a giant matter in the first place, but it kept growing, unrepentant and stupefying, bewildering and confusing, adding to so many aspects she’d yet to fully encounter.
Did he care to make deals for anyone else? What about the rest of his family? And while Nate mattered, held in the highest regard and a paragon for the Flood, where did all the others stand? Why hadn’t she heard of other individuals in the world, striving, begging, and pleading, for those across the divide to be saved?
She didn’t voice those though. Instead, she opened the satchel and chucked a fistful of rocks, listening to them smack against one another. Her voice didn’t dull, but didn’t roar either, a careful, modified flame when she looked back at him again. “Did you ever get it clarified?” Or was it not a simplistic query? Or had he dreaded the news, the noose? “Is Nate this codependent?” Had he sought out the Voice so Sunjata wouldn’t have to fall apart in the upcoming war?
Then the honeybee sighed, shaking her head, jaw clenching, fists digging into a larger piece of stone. “To me, it sounds like you don’t believe he can survive without your deals and support.”
Did he care to make deals for anyone else? What about the rest of his family? And while Nate mattered, held in the highest regard and a paragon for the Flood, where did all the others stand? Why hadn’t she heard of other individuals in the world, striving, begging, and pleading, for those across the divide to be saved?
She didn’t voice those though. Instead, she opened the satchel and chucked a fistful of rocks, listening to them smack against one another. Her voice didn’t dull, but didn’t roar either, a careful, modified flame when she looked back at him again. “Did you ever get it clarified?” Or was it not a simplistic query? Or had he dreaded the news, the noose? “Is Nate this codependent?” Had he sought out the Voice so Sunjata wouldn’t have to fall apart in the upcoming war?
Then the honeybee sighed, shaking her head, jaw clenching, fists digging into a larger piece of stone. “To me, it sounds like you don’t believe he can survive without your deals and support.”
to be lit up from within, vein by vein
to be the sun
to be the sun
