A NERVOUS SMILE PAINTS ITSELF ONTO HER FACE, gazing
down at the man, hunched over a bed of flowers. it was sweet---
watching the fellow kinkou warrior care for something so small
bare feet tiptoe down stairs of oak, crafted by an expert hand.
she walked as if she was going to wake somebody. although
hints of dawn erupted across the morning sky, &&. the sun
peeked above the horizon, her habit persisted. why? even she
was left unsure. it wasn’t as if a simple creak of a stair would
have changed anything, nothing would have happened.
( something could have happened. )
paranoia, fear, anxieties. at night, she sleeps with one eye open,
wakes periodically &&. scopes the abandoned halls.
for now, she stays silent in action.
she wears robes of a rich crimson, contrast to her olivine eyes.
gracefully, she seats herself next to the man, wordlessly
observing his work. mostly, she would take care of the shrine,
making sure the pagoda was spotless, a spiritual paradise.
one among several other duties, of course.
‘ yes, the carnations will look lovely beside