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As he knocked on the door, he prayed she wasn’t there, that the woman wouldn’t answer. In what seemed as an immediate refute of his prayer he could hear footsteps coming towards the door. God had betrayed him and it was still early.
She was beautiful and sad. The tear stains lingered on her face. The pale lines of old tear paths stretched from her eyes in every way but up.
“Well the arts and fashions of East’Sae may be wasted on you, as you keep to your dull and drab fashion, but this small something has definitely helped the rest of your expensive nothingness.”
He relished the opportunity to take in the scenery. He dwelled on the beauty of everything; Ca’Sae in bloom. In his opinion the City had finally reached puberty.
“Talent and experience aren’t even comparable. Neither should be underestimated, but no comparison should be drawn between the two. They are not common currency.
“We don't need a plan as much as we need time. I have a plan to give us more time.”
“Thanks for that Marc’ul. I don’t know what I was…” “Hey,” interrupted Marc Ul, “There’s a lot people don’t know about themselves until they do. And now you do.” Quilll smiled at this. “And now I get better.” “Of course.”
He knew enough to know that there was more romance in the quiet resolve and solace that came with realising there was no such thing as mystical magnetism.
Every decision the kid had made to this point had probably been clean and moral and kind and beautiful and fair and good. He was still young and naïve so Marc’ul forgave him for this. The boy wasn’t to know that all these words meant mostly nothing.
“Just because you’re one thing doesn’t mean you’re not the other.”
What they valued in themselves, their common currency, was measured by tenaciousness, acuity and the coldness of their mind. And yet the metric to Marc’ul’s success was completely dependent on the small fraction of emotion that all these brilliantly cold minds harboured. Whilst it required an effort for Marc’ul to gently find such emotion within these minds, it was also a beautiful process. Not only did such cold minds feel loyal to the ones who brought warmth, but they also celebrated their rebirthed capacity for warmth, and longed to reciprocate.
Not only did such cold minds feel loyal to the ones who brought warmth, but they also celebrated their rebirthed capacity for warmth, and longed to reciprocate.
Despite these advantages oxygen was forever a necessity, the debt that all humans had to pay.
She, like most elderly people liked to speak in such vague riddles. Time had taught them that truth was more assured if you allowed for greater margins of error.
The bullet came out, convoyed by blood.
