 open! Which came first, the phoenix or the flame?
Ash was in a predictably empty mood today. She did not feel like screaming until her lungs collapsed or faking a smile until the mask fell off. She just felt like resting her head on the table and thinking about the pointlessness of it all. She sat down at the middle of the table, so that anybody could sit next to her if they wanted to. She turned her head to the left and rested her right cheek on the table with her arms crossed in front. She slumped over the table like this, waiting for somebody to make small talk. Her eyes stared blankly forward (to the left in this case), and it was as if she was a statue or a corpse. Her eyes noticed everything, and they appeared to suck in the light like a black hole. Her ears heard every painful noise, muted like she was underwater. And still she didn't move. She was waiting for someone to say anything, so she could respond like a regular person. But she wasn't really a regular person, was she? She was a forgotten statue covered in mud. A abandoned porcelain doll with a cracked face. An injured cat with no faith in humanity. Something like that. Certainly not something happy or loved. Certainly not something unscathed, and certainly not something that liked its current predicament. |