[open] i've been running from something, any

[rembrandt]

Rembrandt

The sun’s been gone a year now. 
What a peculiar concept.

He turns his head up to the sky, squinting up at the sliver of light (so narrow that it’s barely there at all) that creeps out around the edge of the eclipse. There are many things he does not know, Rembrandt, but he doesn’t think darkness is supposed to last quite so long.

(It is about this time that he feels the second skin slip away, the one he so seldom ever used, and he feels bone ripple down the length of his spine. It is a peculiar sensation but he does not think to question it. It is so brief and the bone does not yet erupt from beneath the skin.)

When he drops his head again, the filly has crossed the river and come to join him. He exhales, surprised at the company. How long has he been alone? It feels like forever. He remembers a shy filly so many years ago. He remembers snow. He remembers a kindness that no longer fits him the same way. 

He rolls his shoulders in an effort to relieve some of the tension there.

“Yes,” he tells her, though he cannot tell her where he has come from. As far as he knows, the place had no name. “I don’t know how long ago I lost it.” He hadn’t known that he should have been paying attention.

He shifts his weight. “Do you know what caused the darkness?” he asks, though she seems young enough that he’d be surprised if she remembers a world without darkness at all. 

FALLING FEELS LIKE FLYING UNTIL YOU HIT THE GROUND

@[Memorie]

@[The Monsters] let's see what happens to the bone spikes!