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She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to
her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her
doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and
demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands. "
"That's right, Captain," cried Blueskin. You poor man, what have you been doing to yourself?”
“Nothing except travelling all night,” he answered. It was as if
her finite human brain could only store a limit of
information, details like hair color and fingernail shape
easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin
or the emotion of a shoulder blade. Four prisoners,
termed "The Partners," had charge of this hold. There’s hardly a
night she doesn’t sneak out of the house.
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This video was uploaded to pleroma.gnusocial.club on 02-07-2024 18:39:43