She does not see the appeal in going anywhere that isn’t nice.
Perhaps it is because she had been dead so long.
But she cannot imagine doing anything she does not want to do.
She is the master of her own fate.
She will not know happiness until she digs it out of the earth herself.
It occurs to her that she should say something.
She should ask him why he’s going if it’s not nice.
She should ask why he should bother to do something that does not please him.
Though, perhaps, these are the things that please him.
The ugly and dreadful things.
She understands the impulse to surround oneself with filth and rot, she thinks.
She tilts her golden head and watches him, unblinking.
The eyes had been closed so long that she does not want to close them now.
She wants to keep them open forever.
She does not want to miss anything.
Not because she is sentimental but because she is curious.
Curious about all the ways the world has changed in the time that has passed.
His question is easy to answer.
She smiles a metallic smile and nods.
“Yes,” she tells him.
“It looked different the last time I was here.”
The whole world had looked different then.
She cannot tell if it has been rebuilt with better or worse stuff.
Certainly she has been rebuilt stronger.
She had been dead so long that the fear she feels when the ground begins to shudder is muted.
Weak.
Hardly there at all.
She is not afraid to die again.
But a strange, abrupt darkness descends upon them and she turns her gaze to the sky.
The shadows move. Clamor. Reach.
She does not flee.
She turns her gaze then in his direction but cannot see him through the terrible darkness.
She is only vaguely aware of the sound of his voice through the dense shadows.
She is much more aware of the sound of suffering.
“Are you there?” she asks the darkness.
She is not afraid but she says, “please don’t leave” all the same.
i didn't need to go where a bible went
@[Chemdog]