04:34 am
[It washes over him. Takes him away for a moment, to a strange place that he has fantasies of, where the world is completely still. When he realises what it is - and he knows, because he knows this intimately, this... 'feeling', this signature, if you like - the illusion shatters.
It's not the vision that unsettles him. It's the fact that he's still holding on to that illusion, that he may, from time to time, still want, deep in his non-existent heart of hearts, to live out that fantasy and make it real.
It must not be known. It must never be uncovered. Not him, not Death. Not the one who could turn everything to dust.
Some things were not meant to be played with. If he had the time to speak - if he wanted to be heard - that was what he would have said.]
It's not the vision that unsettles him. It's the fact that he's still holding on to that illusion, that he may, from time to time, still want, deep in his non-existent heart of hearts, to live out that fantasy and make it real.
It must not be known. It must never be uncovered. Not him, not Death. Not the one who could turn everything to dust.
Some things were not meant to be played with. If he had the time to speak - if he wanted to be heard - that was what he would have said.]