06-17-2020, 06:01 AM
Four glasses. Four glasses! This is dangerous. Take the walk. He stood in silence as Near wrestled with the bottle, only just managing to defeat the cork. Jude's expression appeared stoic, until Near's comment punctured the surface, and a wrinkle of his eyebrows revealed that blankness as irritation. "I'm not a circus animal," he snapped. And yet there was the impulse to smash something, demonstrating exactly the opposite of his point. Luckily for Near, Jude's little tricks didn't come for free, and it would have been very melodramatic to use a knife to cut his other hand.
"What is the point of this?" Jude wandered from cupboard to cupboard until he hunted down the wine glasses. The two he found were dusty, necessitating a quick bath in the sink. "Are you some kind of alcoholic?" Were they bonding? Near did not strike him as someone who wanted to bond. Maybe he was bored; maybe the Reaches had gotten to him more than he admitted. He delivered the glasses, still wet, at the base of the bottle.
Four glasses. Something terrible was bound to happen, unless he wanted to drink those four glasses very, very slowly. And he didn't, he wanted to get to sleep. Sleep -- it shimmered before him like a kind of resolution, a marker of progress. He walked here, he went to sleep, he woke up. Time was still linear. The world was still in motion. This kitchen was chrono-quicksand. Jude fought it, and sank into it.
"What is the point of this?" Jude wandered from cupboard to cupboard until he hunted down the wine glasses. The two he found were dusty, necessitating a quick bath in the sink. "Are you some kind of alcoholic?" Were they bonding? Near did not strike him as someone who wanted to bond. Maybe he was bored; maybe the Reaches had gotten to him more than he admitted. He delivered the glasses, still wet, at the base of the bottle.
Four glasses. Something terrible was bound to happen, unless he wanted to drink those four glasses very, very slowly. And he didn't, he wanted to get to sleep. Sleep -- it shimmered before him like a kind of resolution, a marker of progress. He walked here, he went to sleep, he woke up. Time was still linear. The world was still in motion. This kitchen was chrono-quicksand. Jude fought it, and sank into it.