* what i know to be real may come to tell me that i am wrong, after all. i’m falling through the holes in my story, falling without even the grace to call it a controlled descent. and ghostly hands cannot catch me.
THE NIGHT BEGINS LIKE ANY OTHER : i have the sudden realization that the sun has disappeared below the horizon without my noticing and that shadows have come to keep me company. i reach for the light, the burst of incandescent glow dissolving the darkness ; i do this quickly so that i might not see any familiar faces in the darkness. the room has grown cold and i am half - convinced i am in a dream. is there anything to tell me otherwise? when the days are long and the nights are deep, and there is too much work to be done, it is not uncommon for me to fall asleep at my desk. yet, my face is unmarred by ink or creases. consciousness clings to me, then. how marvellous, i’ve begun to master absence with a waking mind.
the youthful body rebels with restlessness. why must you keep me trapped behind this desk always? it demands. his head turns like an after - thought and although he doesn’t see him, he knows he is there. the warm yellow light of his desk lamp had done away with the shadows, but henry was no shadow. richard drags his palm down his cheek, and stood, bones creaking and muscles stretching. “ if you’ve come to taunt, let me save you the breath. i knew it as soon as i sent it in. i don’t know why i even try. ” he looks at henry, the expression of his eyes shot through with tiredness. “ THERE’S ONLY ONE STORY INSIDE ME. ” [ @rebelcodes ]
