i felt a funeral, in my brain, [ c-4 - day two mutts ]
Oct 25, 2022 14:40:03 GMT -5
Post by heather - d2 [mylee] on Oct 25, 2022 14:40:03 GMT -5
C A R S Y N
Grief makes us human, I’d said to myself over, pressing the tip of the needle first against my skin, and then into it. Even as I pushed the anti-serum through myself, I could think only of the time I’d spent less than that, which was really to say I couldn’t figure out what know what I had been less than at all.
But I must have been less than human—those hours between the ascent into the arena and the here and now, digging the needle around in my own veins to give myself evidence—more evidence—that this was a way back to the before, that time before time in which we are not forced to think about what we might want to return to, and why. Grief makes us human, I had whispered into the night again, the needle slipping out of my skin and down to the ground beside me, and that’s never made us pure, I had thought.
*
When we wake and stir, the air is cold enough to mean something, but not enough to touch the bones inside. I feel the pressure anyway to shrink into myself—that fundamental urge to make smaller, to conserve. As the two of them rumble around me, I feel as though I am myself, lost at the mouth of the cave, and I am standing at the edge of the world and know that all around me beasts are hibernating. Spring is coming. This is the pivotal moment of decision for the next season, and the next after that.
I know I cannot afford it, but I have long resigned myself to following their lead—Coyote’s and Cantara’s that is—and I fall into the pattern now, plodding behind them, tracking my body in the spaces between theirs and seeing how our footprints align. The earth beneath us is soft and so willing, holding us as we walk so that with each step there is a moment of flight so prolonged that there becomes pieces of me, temporal and scattered, that are unsure of the identity of the body they are returning to.
When the noise overwhelms us everywhere and all at once, I cannot bring myself to think it’s anything but the water roaring past.
[ table: pogue ]
[ carsyn bowers attacks baleel pack ]
iqnFGWZDZiknife
[result]
[ accuracy; day two ]
knife
knife·knifeiqnFGWZDZiknife
[result]
[ accuracy; day two ]
knife