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It looks just like you, but then again, everything I see looks like you.
Humans can grow bored of all things, somehow. This is one of our great blessings. They say that art, that beauty, is what allows us to endure times of great horror—but no. It is our bottomless capacity for boredom.
He dressed well enough, or at least, was proficient in buying clothes that fit, which was more than most of the young men his age could boast.
They may have found her incorporeal form a bit odd, but they weren’t judgmental people.
He kept reaching.
I’m only returning what was always yours.
