10-12-2021, 05:40 AM
Jude opened his mouth to argue more, to explain why he was a spoiled fucking kid, but his brain tripped over the beginning of the story like a rucked-up rug. Did he even know why? Was it something he had the words for? His teeth came together with an inaudible click. It was just one more thing Near wouldn't understand. He wouldn't understand that Jude's job hadn't been to work out all these words, these stories, these rules of what to do and how to do things, where and when and why. His only job was to listen for voices beyond this world, to find the places where the stitches between worlds could be picked at and eased apart. That job he was good at.
With an aggressive sigh, he shut his eyes again. Soon this would be over -- this terrible truck ride, this burdensome company. Jude went around and around in his head, trying to reason with himself, practicing the argument he would one day have with someone else, someone who might listen. What did it mean to sound smart? What would make all this easier to believe? Sometimes it felt like he had a clear thought, but then sleep would encroach, and then a bump in the road would interrupt his dozing, and there was nothing, nothing, nothing at all.
The lack of motion did not rouse him immediately. It was some other extrasensory input, whatever weird ways Jude had of knowing what was happening. He opened his eyes without sitting up, wanting to confirm they had arrived. Instead, they were -- nowhere.
Hmm.
Deciding that this was, once again, Near's fault, Jude fixed him with another surly glare. Do something about this. Since Jude was the worthless one.
With an aggressive sigh, he shut his eyes again. Soon this would be over -- this terrible truck ride, this burdensome company. Jude went around and around in his head, trying to reason with himself, practicing the argument he would one day have with someone else, someone who might listen. What did it mean to sound smart? What would make all this easier to believe? Sometimes it felt like he had a clear thought, but then sleep would encroach, and then a bump in the road would interrupt his dozing, and there was nothing, nothing, nothing at all.
The lack of motion did not rouse him immediately. It was some other extrasensory input, whatever weird ways Jude had of knowing what was happening. He opened his eyes without sitting up, wanting to confirm they had arrived. Instead, they were -- nowhere.
Hmm.
Deciding that this was, once again, Near's fault, Jude fixed him with another surly glare. Do something about this. Since Jude was the worthless one.