Ea
04-08-2023, 05:29 PM
Maybe she’s romanticized this life after death, but it allows her to breathe unhindered. Returning to the Dale was a chance at a new life, one she could finally imagine for herself after going back in time and fixing something, succeeding.
She could recount every trauma, go on and on and on and on (and she will), but instead she watches the trees move with the breeze and the water ripple with every fish swimming by. It’s only at night that she allows herself to remember, to count every scar on her body while she falls asleep, as one would count sheep.
Tonight, it’s the warmth in Beyza’s voice that keeps her, for just a while longer, from slipping away to count scars, and for that, she’s thankful. As the white mare moves closer, Ea can see her white eyes closely for the first time and finds herself staring for just a moment too long, fascinated. “You’re striking,” she says, pausing before clarifying: “in a good way.” Once she would’ve been embarrassed by a rogue thought tumbling out of her mouth, disappointed that it hadn’t been carefully crafted and calculated.
This time, she brushes past it: “Hyaline? No, this is the Dale. It was here before,” she says, her voice trailing off again.
“You know, I don’t think I ever visited Hyaline. My last home was Ischia, if you know of it. A bit secluded,” she finishes, as though it were an explanation for why she didn’t quite know how to act around an unfamiliar face.
She dips her head into the water for a quick drink, then gently moves a few steps closer to the lake’s shore. “But I could help you look for your mother, if you’d like. You could tell me about her, or Hyaline, or yourself,” she says with a half-smile.
She could recount every trauma, go on and on and on and on (and she will), but instead she watches the trees move with the breeze and the water ripple with every fish swimming by. It’s only at night that she allows herself to remember, to count every scar on her body while she falls asleep, as one would count sheep.
Tonight, it’s the warmth in Beyza’s voice that keeps her, for just a while longer, from slipping away to count scars, and for that, she’s thankful. As the white mare moves closer, Ea can see her white eyes closely for the first time and finds herself staring for just a moment too long, fascinated. “You’re striking,” she says, pausing before clarifying: “in a good way.” Once she would’ve been embarrassed by a rogue thought tumbling out of her mouth, disappointed that it hadn’t been carefully crafted and calculated.
This time, she brushes past it: “Hyaline? No, this is the Dale. It was here before,” she says, her voice trailing off again.
“You know, I don’t think I ever visited Hyaline. My last home was Ischia, if you know of it. A bit secluded,” she finishes, as though it were an explanation for why she didn’t quite know how to act around an unfamiliar face.
She dips her head into the water for a quick drink, then gently moves a few steps closer to the lake’s shore. “But I could help you look for your mother, if you’d like. You could tell me about her, or Hyaline, or yourself,” she says with a half-smile.
AND I KNOW NONE OF THIS WILL MATTER IN THE LONG RUN,
BUT I KNOW A SOUND IS STILL A SOUND AROUND NO ONE
BUT I KNOW A SOUND IS STILL A SOUND AROUND NO ONE