(Untitled)

[sister_theship]

They can keep looking, but she melted into the air and became the rain. She fell on the ground and sprang up like a weed and then they chopped her off at the legs.

At the root.

...But the windows are so dirty here.

Comments

[ladiesmanirvine]

...are...are you okay?

[sister_theship]

The windows are dirty. Don't people ever clean them?

[ladiesmanirvine]

Well...sometimes?

[sister_theship]

It's not sanitary. You'll get diseases and die. Like botulism, only worse. You'll ooze out of your eyes.

Voice;

[encoring]

[There's a pause for a few series of gulps, then:] Since when did the whole city become a bunch of philosophers.

Voice;

[sister_theship]

Philosophers have it easy. They just say words and people think it's genius.

How do you think the words feel?

Voice;

[encoring]

[Clink, clank, clink.] Something I can agree on.

[He pauses.]

The words feel like a rusted blade; keeps the memories, but it doesn't have any more use.

Voice;

[sister_theship]

[She giggles.]

Memories make the words alive sometimes, but then they curdle and die. No one likes spoiled milk.

[striginae]

That -- sounds to be a rather morbid anecdote.

[sister_theship]

Poets would think it pretty. Scientists would think it stupid.

Anecdotes aren't antidotes.

[striginae]

Well, ah -- I suppose one of a scientific mindset would not find it quite to their taste, but I don't feel that it means your words hold any less value?

[sister_theship]

Maybe they don't want anecdotes. They're too busy reading words like numbers and putting fire in their lungs.

[apotheosise]

Maybe you should clean them.

[sister_theship]

Need to find a towel. People left in a hurry.

[apotheosise]

Ah.

[sister_theship]

They'll turn us all into rats, with our scurrying.

[soulparadox]

Where is 'here?'

[sister_theship]

In the air, on the clouds.

The clouds are dirty too.

[soulparadox]

Clouds are not meant to be clean.

[sister_theship]

They're not meant to be hard either.