Notes
Whiskey
Rain
Dirt
Broken glass
Amber
Driftwood
Time started back up again after two decades frozen.
Description
The warm sting of whiskey in a chipped glass, that honeyed flood that carries him over and through the memories of what he's had to do. The shattered watch face of the only bond that mattered severed with a shot; the wet-stone trail of misery he leaves behind as he moves through time that has long since stopped for him. The flush of the branching mycelial bloom that captures and corrupts as it always reaches, always grasps — like all the ties he runs from.
Until — the embered amber warmth of a fiery girl unwillingly cut loose by her mother, and unwillingly caught by him. The memories of rain fallen and tears shed and people past that rises to meet them as they find rest on the earth; the cedar and wood and musk and pine of the walk, and the clover that leaves traces on their leather boots.
And the moment time started ticking for him once more, in the heartbeat he kept going no matter what it cost the last of us.
I got you, baby girl.
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