“…sunlight on a broken column
there, is a tree swinging
and voices are
in the wind’s singing
more distant and more solemn
than a fading star…”
three: a reunion in death’s other kingdom
Darkness and the stifling humidity of hot water–a sudden reminder of the state of his own hygiene. What he would gladly sacrifice for a bath…
…footsteps.
Clinking metal.
He blindly turned towards the source of sound; moisture dripping onto his upturned face–residue from a fleeting caress, droplets streaming down wet hair.
Click. The smell of burning. A lighter–his lighter–used.
Brightness with the removal of the blindfold, or was the newly acquired sense due to the soft pool radiating from the just-lit candle?
A drawn breath and a shaky exhale: “Konzen,” more a lover’s clinging call than a statement.
“I’m not your fucking lover anymore,” a spat rebuke at the amused demigod.
Delighted laughter. (The sound of irony.)
“…those who have crossed
with direct eyes to death’s other Kingdom
remember us — if at all — not as lost
violent souls, but only
as the hollow men…”
A/N: Quotes in the beginning and end are from T.S. Eliot’s “The Hollow Men” (I just noticed that I’ve been spelling his last name wrong; sorry!). Next chapter is the last chapter, and I’m debating over an epilogue…