#DailyLines #MOBY #WRITTENInMYOwnHEARTSBlood #Book8 #OutJUNE10th #fraughtreminiscences “I told ye about Mary MacNab, aye? How she came to me, in the cave?” “Several years after the fact,” I said, rather coldly. “But yes, you did get round to it eventually.” I gave him a look. “I certainly didn’t blame you for that—and I didn’t ask you for the gory details, either.” “No, ye didn’t,” he admitted. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with a knuckle. “I’d tell ye, though—how it was—if ye wanted to know.” I looked at him, biting my lip dubiously. _Did_ I want to know? If I didn’t—and I wasn’t at all sure whether I did or not—would he take that as evidence that I didn’t care? I took a deep breath, accepting the implied bargain. “Tell me,” I said. “How it was.” Now he did look away, and I saw his throat move as he swallowed. It...was tender, he said quietly, after a moment. Sad. Sad, I echoed. How? He didnt look up, but kept his eyes fixed on the flowers, following the movements of a big black bumblebee among the furled blooms. Both of us mourning things that were lost, he said slowly, brows drawn down in thought. She said she meant to keep ye alive for me, to let me...to let me imagine it was you, I suppose she meant. Didnt work quite that way? No. He looked up then, straight on, and his eyes went through me like a rapier through a scarecrow. There couldna be anyone like you.
Posted on: Wed, 09 Apr 2014 11:19:04 +0000
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