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Cicada Days
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keep running yoshi
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The dents in the road wore themselves firmly into the kinks of Tina's back. The road seemed to spin, briefly. Stomach powerfully jolted into her chest, clenched to suppress the violent lurch of illness. Her hands skittered and danced over the wheel, in spite of themselves. And her throat was dry, too dry. She needed something, but she couldn't take it. Not while the coffee ground centerpiece divinity had forged could bear witness. Wouldn't take it, even as her fingers anxiously flexed themselves around it when it wasn't there. Rolling into neat little cylinders.

They had something else that burned noxious sweet. They'd make do.

Lily said nothing changed, and somehow that seemed alright. Nothing could befall such form, that it would mutate to something that did not belong. A purity could be kept, in all three dimensions. Faces etched with scanning eyes that sealed doors and harshly belted out concerns. Letters assigned meanings and scribbled into neat grids that carried in their abstraction the moon and sun's centripetal dance. Those things could, would always stay. Would always gently glimmer, burrow their way into the meat of Tina's eye.

"I..." Her voice paused. Caesura carried by the stalling of air in her throat. It lingered past it's welcome, corrosive on the breath. "Also the usual. Have you received orders?" She needed a few more moments of silence. "For your new project?"
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Repoussoir · Memories from the Past