“Each day means a new twenty-four hours. Each day means everything’s possible again. You live in the moment, you die in the moment, you take it all one day at a time.” // @somuchtolivefor
“It’s... good that you learned that, so early in your career.”
A millennia had passed before she even began to grasp what a new day truly meant. Staring too long into what was coming, counting the centuries that would unfold before her, it would crush any spirit. There had to be something more than the slow march towards Ragnarok.
So she had made her own stops along the road.
Like now. Right now, there is a blanket beneath her. The sunlight dances through the boughs of the nearest tree, speckling her glamoured hand with its rays. A dozen little ants strategize on how best to reach her melon slice. The wind carries on, and she thinks no further than an evening’s storm some hours on the horizon.
She has good company at her side, drowning out all the living and breathing and heart-beating that so often overwhelms her. Even her aching nerves and the numbness in her bad knee is made tolerable. So what if tomorrow, she’ll feel better? It matters just a much as which landfill the rind will be in by dawn.
It’s about now. Now means something a little bigger than contentment. So she lays back, dark hair fanning around the grass beyond the blanket’s border.
“I think you go crazy otherwise. If you can’t move on, or only want to move on, you go mad somehow.” Shifting her head, she grins up at Hob.
“You really should be putting ‘Wise Man’ on your CV.”
