with the eyes of a man with a pronounced attention for detail, it is essential that he remembers. in the shelves of his memory, there had been liquid red, but a person's memory has never truly claimed sides. it is an ally, as it is an enemy, as it chooses to remain neutral if it so wishes. kaveh looks, and wonders if it had been a lust-ridden mind that had willed that familiar red into existence.
he finds, instead, white bandages. the end of a narrative.
red meets green, and kaveh turns. he does not offer alhaitham a response, for there is little to be said at a statement built on evidence and clear proof. he is lucid. rational. with a multitude of unorganized thoughts that he must make sense of. it's headache inducing.
so he finds room, instead, to sit before a served dinner. red meets green, and kaveh jerks his head. ] Sit.
[ it is an empty invitation, a throwaway word with little strength. whether alhaitham does so or not, kaveh doesn't truly care. he takes a bowl of rice first, and finds himself staring at the cut slices of carrots. perfectly round, all of the same shape. he does not bring them to his mouth just yet.
instead, with the unwavering precision of a man who knows there is ever only forward, and never a way back: ] What of Akram and Kurash?
no subject
with the eyes of a man with a pronounced attention for detail, it is essential that he remembers. in the shelves of his memory, there had been liquid red, but a person's memory has never truly claimed sides. it is an ally, as it is an enemy, as it chooses to remain neutral if it so wishes. kaveh looks, and wonders if it had been a lust-ridden mind that had willed that familiar red into existence.
he finds, instead, white bandages. the end of a narrative.
red meets green, and kaveh turns. he does not offer alhaitham a response, for there is little to be said at a statement built on evidence and clear proof. he is lucid. rational. with a multitude of unorganized thoughts that he must make sense of. it's headache inducing.
so he finds room, instead, to sit before a served dinner. red meets green, and kaveh jerks his head. ] Sit.
[ it is an empty invitation, a throwaway word with little strength. whether alhaitham does so or not, kaveh doesn't truly care. he takes a bowl of rice first, and finds himself staring at the cut slices of carrots. perfectly round, all of the same shape. he does not bring them to his mouth just yet.
instead, with the unwavering precision of a man who knows there is ever only forward, and never a way back: ] What of Akram and Kurash?