02-12-2008, 12:31 AM
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Touch was a sensation that had always come with two folds. It was either painful, as it had been with his parents, or with passion, as it had been with the women he had seen gone by the wayside. Nothing remained, claimed by the flow of time. He sat there, let the bandage take the blood from his arm, and said nothing for a long time. The thoughts that came were many, jumbled, in a rush. Voices and faces and things that meant everything but nothing at all, not anymore. Slowly, he became numb to the pain in his arm and in his face, and was only aware of the small circle around them. He met Laruku’s eyes, and in that silence, knew what he wanted to say. I can’t explain. This is not how I am.
indent “She’s never coming back,” he heard himself say firmly. This was fact. He knew that. “I…I don’t know. I haven’t been right for a long time.” He stopped, swallowed, and again fell silent. This time, it was not for as long. “Things piled up. Things came back…I can’t remember a day I’ve been sober in the past few months,” he admitted. Dully, he turned his arm over, though the track marks were hidden under his long winter coat. Still, the message would be clear. Clearer then anything else he could manage right now.
Touch was a sensation that had always come with two folds. It was either painful, as it had been with his parents, or with passion, as it had been with the women he had seen gone by the wayside. Nothing remained, claimed by the flow of time. He sat there, let the bandage take the blood from his arm, and said nothing for a long time. The thoughts that came were many, jumbled, in a rush. Voices and faces and things that meant everything but nothing at all, not anymore. Slowly, he became numb to the pain in his arm and in his face, and was only aware of the small circle around them. He met Laruku’s eyes, and in that silence, knew what he wanted to say. I can’t explain. This is not how I am.
indent “She’s never coming back,” he heard himself say firmly. This was fact. He knew that. “I…I don’t know. I haven’t been right for a long time.” He stopped, swallowed, and again fell silent. This time, it was not for as long. “Things piled up. Things came back…I can’t remember a day I’ve been sober in the past few months,” he admitted. Dully, he turned his arm over, though the track marks were hidden under his long winter coat. Still, the message would be clear. Clearer then anything else he could manage right now.