"No." His voice has begun to fade. "No, thank you."
The damp cloth on his brow feels so wonderful. Is he sick with fever? Maybe. Maybe there will be soup later, he thinks. She will wake him when it's ready. The blood on her robes, the lotus growing through her -- that will only be because whatever illness he's caught is playing tricks on his mind. That's all.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2020-09-13 04:49 am (UTC)The damp cloth on his brow feels so wonderful. Is he sick with fever? Maybe. Maybe there will be soup later, he thinks. She will wake him when it's ready. The blood on her robes, the lotus growing through her -- that will only be because whatever illness he's caught is playing tricks on his mind. That's all.