12-18-2020, 12:11 AM
YADIGAR
there’s a hole in my chest but it’s mine, baby, it’s all i got.
He wonders if fish mind the cold of the river or if they enjoy it the way he basks in the desert’s heat. Their little outlines go slipping past his legs and he watches them with mild interest. Maybe they have no concept of temperature at all, the way trees simply survive and care for little else. It seems that he has become much like them as well. Neither despair nor triumph do anything for his mood, anymore.
Yadigar turns his head at the sound of someone else speaking nearby. His thoughts scatter to whatever corner of his mind they call home as his body slowly spins to face her better. He lets his wings bob and float with the river current at his sides as he studies the outline of her warmth. She is a stranger, it seems, meaning he is not inclined to behave in any particular way. But why she apologizes is a mystery to him, he thinks.
“You haven’t intruded,” he says simply, following with a light shrug of his broad shoulders that sends his wings bobbing up over the water’s surface. “Unless you intend to occupy the entire river. That would be a problem, I suppose.”
He jests and yet he forgets to follow it up with a smile and a laugh. Bit by bit, his personality is decaying into something dull and flat. All those little mannerisms fall to the wayside the more he tries to force them into a conversation, it seems.
“My name is Yadigar. What’s yours?” he asks, and he manages to offer up a half smile this time.
Yadigar turns his head at the sound of someone else speaking nearby. His thoughts scatter to whatever corner of his mind they call home as his body slowly spins to face her better. He lets his wings bob and float with the river current at his sides as he studies the outline of her warmth. She is a stranger, it seems, meaning he is not inclined to behave in any particular way. But why she apologizes is a mystery to him, he thinks.
“You haven’t intruded,” he says simply, following with a light shrug of his broad shoulders that sends his wings bobbing up over the water’s surface. “Unless you intend to occupy the entire river. That would be a problem, I suppose.”
He jests and yet he forgets to follow it up with a smile and a laugh. Bit by bit, his personality is decaying into something dull and flat. All those little mannerisms fall to the wayside the more he tries to force them into a conversation, it seems.
“My name is Yadigar. What’s yours?” he asks, and he manages to offer up a half smile this time.