Aug 12, 2021
The shadow traces his cage, walking squares. I imagine it isn’t a pleasing life at all.
“Yes,” he comments, knowing my mind as well as his own, “I do hate life.”
“Why do you hate your life?” I ask quietly, I don’t like the way my voice echoes off of the stone walls here.
“I don’t hate my life,” he stops the rhythmic pacing and cuts across his cell towards me, chains clanking. “I hate all life,” his eyes burn red in the darkness of the dungeon, “all life.”
It gets hard to look away, I know better than to look into his face.