YEARS FROM NOW, THEY WILL STAND ACROSS FROM ONE ANOTHER EVERY BIT AS VANDALISED AS THE OLD THEATRE AROUND THEM --- --- so changed by the passage of time and tragedy that all familiarity will have been lost to a self - fulfilling prophecy.
But Jason isn’t there yet.
❝ Yeah, so what ? ❞ He’s made himself at home in one of the red velvet seats, feet kicked up on the next row over. ❝ Just because something is temporary doesn’t mean it’s not beautiful. Even when it does die. ❞
Jason thinks of the dried flowers Farid keeps pressed in between the pages of the big book of Hafez’ poetry he likes to read in the evenings. They are no less beautiful than they were, but they are certainly more fragile.
Maybe that’s what Selina means, he thinks. If sturdy, brick buildings are vulnerable, then what does that mean for us ?
He gestures to the ghost light, still proudly illuminating the barest hint of the stage before them.
❝ Is it true this place is haunted ? ❞
@purrfectioniist / CONT’D
