Kara/Leoben drabble- not finished, at least I think.
You ate the seeds, as I knew you would.
But of course who wouldn’t?
When given the promise of sweet hope that bursts inside of you at the moment of consumption, who even the most ignorant fool can deny? Even for pride’s sake which I know you have in abundance.
You still hold the aftertaste now don’t you? Even when you rise victoriously from your presumed clever masquerade and as you grasp her hand in blind motherly relief you never knew you had.
Did you keep a seed or two under your tongue? Fiddling them from side to side, trying to remember the outer texture. I think I found one of them when you bargained for your freedom.
I took it.
One is all it takes.
Too precious a thing to cast out. Now fields of them burning, ashes like so many precious things take the form of now.
You understand now don’t you? Everything has a price. A bargain, even the white china and bloody medium rare that sits in front of you now.
Should have known when you offered mercy to the immortal. No matter what they say even kindness pays a price.
I suppose now is not the time to speak of such things, they are nothing more than gifts for now, promises, illusions of what all could come.
I have made you a castle in the high rises of hell, of concrete and window planned glass. How does it fair you?
Does it remind you of home?
I tried to make you comfortable within the choices we have made. Is the bed as soft as it was before you ate the seeds? How does your coffee fair? Too black or was it the way you always preferred it?
No matter, give another 6 months and I will try to conform it to your perfection. Illusions are always the easiest to manipulate.
Still vengeful? Hating? Bitter? Time heals all wounds but only if you would stop picking at them. Hell always follows but perhaps one day you’ll stop longing for it when you glance outside the planed windows.
Your freedom beckons now, you will be more hesitant next time this I know. I’m not sorry but then again neither will you.
Until then I’ll keep the seed you offered and perhaps plant and watch it manifest. My last gift to you Kara. May it be as sustaining as the last one. I hope.
But of course who wouldn’t?
When given the promise of sweet hope that bursts inside of you at the moment of consumption, who even the most ignorant fool can deny? Even for pride’s sake which I know you have in abundance.
You still hold the aftertaste now don’t you? Even when you rise victoriously from your presumed clever masquerade and as you grasp her hand in blind motherly relief you never knew you had.
Did you keep a seed or two under your tongue? Fiddling them from side to side, trying to remember the outer texture. I think I found one of them when you bargained for your freedom.
I took it.
One is all it takes.
Too precious a thing to cast out. Now fields of them burning, ashes like so many precious things take the form of now.
You understand now don’t you? Everything has a price. A bargain, even the white china and bloody medium rare that sits in front of you now.
Should have known when you offered mercy to the immortal. No matter what they say even kindness pays a price.
I suppose now is not the time to speak of such things, they are nothing more than gifts for now, promises, illusions of what all could come.
I have made you a castle in the high rises of hell, of concrete and window planned glass. How does it fair you?
Does it remind you of home?
I tried to make you comfortable within the choices we have made. Is the bed as soft as it was before you ate the seeds? How does your coffee fair? Too black or was it the way you always preferred it?
No matter, give another 6 months and I will try to conform it to your perfection. Illusions are always the easiest to manipulate.
Still vengeful? Hating? Bitter? Time heals all wounds but only if you would stop picking at them. Hell always follows but perhaps one day you’ll stop longing for it when you glance outside the planed windows.
Your freedom beckons now, you will be more hesitant next time this I know. I’m not sorry but then again neither will you.
Until then I’ll keep the seed you offered and perhaps plant and watch it manifest. My last gift to you Kara. May it be as sustaining as the last one. I hope.