the
VOICE
VOICE
Electricity and the scent of petrichor fill the space as the holographic form of the Voice suddenly breezes through the shrine. She sits atop it, looking down at them with a mischievous sort of pleasure. "Hello Wessex." She says fondly, her startlingly blue stare crisp and warm, lingering on one of her brightest children before falling to Sam. "Hello Sam." She adds, eyes falling upon him and the book. Before addressing his request however, she looks softly to Maea with the faintest of smiles. "Oh child. Look at what they have done to you.." For a moment her hand stretches outwards, and though Maea is not close, her fingers curve as if they can somehow stroke the side of her face. For a moment, colour and clarity burst into Maea's crackled and blurry vision and she sees. Grains of dust that linger lazily in the air, the soft sigh of the heavier books on the shelves, the way that neither Wessex nor Sam take a breath...
..and then it is gone.
"You could have been so bright." She concludes forlornly, before turning back to her two children.
"A text?" She asks curiously. "I take it it is not one that you can read?"
..and then it is gone.
"You could have been so bright." She concludes forlornly, before turning back to her two children.
"A text?" She asks curiously. "I take it it is not one that you can read?"
