Old Memories float by on whisps of bitter, earthy smoke. Elysius, drawing another looong, slow, inhale. eyes rolling back as they reminisced on their travels, their many lives through the minds of so many who came before. a shade within memory, a prisoner of the present. locked within the denial of being so incapable he simply cannot change the past.
"Run, Run and you'll never feel how hard guilt hits."
coughing, Elysius returns to the odd feeling that is the present moment...lost in a haze of smoke and faint memory...who was that voice again? desperate to eliminate the question Elysius allowed his body to reawaken from its hours-long siesta, clad in colors of illuminated banisters draping the passageways of Amnoons colorful city. smoke curling off his glittering petals, mirroring the night sky above. Paper lanterns and giddy laughter arose as the Casino blitz was announced.
Elysius began to return home, something settling in his deeply unrooted mind.
Who Was That Voice, Again?