[Lazarus' breath draws Paul's along in near-sync, without conscious thought needing to intervene. He remembers clear, still water, black drifting sand settling. He remembers ripples over smooth grey stone. He remembers warm rain, a cloak draped over a bowl of ash.]
When we met, I was doing the same thing. Trying to solve the past.
[His Winter Mournings, lashed together by bloodied hope. The fortuitous impulse to stop, instead of hurrying past a stranger. A pair of hands that had tied a tiny noose, that would one day turn to solving Paul's locked dreams, that would one day hold him here. If fate goes one way, does it also go the other?]
no subject
[Lazarus' breath draws Paul's along in near-sync, without conscious thought needing to intervene. He remembers clear, still water, black drifting sand settling. He remembers ripples over smooth grey stone. He remembers warm rain, a cloak draped over a bowl of ash.]
When we met, I was doing the same thing. Trying to solve the past.
[His Winter Mournings, lashed together by bloodied hope. The fortuitous impulse to stop, instead of hurrying past a stranger. A pair of hands that had tied a tiny noose, that would one day turn to solving Paul's locked dreams, that would one day hold him here. If fate goes one way, does it also go the other?]
I never found a way out.
I never find a way out.