01-25-2022, 07:46 PM
Near's scope was too large, his view too macro. It was a catastrophe if the manager of the fruit section failed to put out new apples and bananas; what would she do about a black hole? So too can Jude not calculate the doom of oil spills and offshore tax havens and wars that begin and never end. Questions of time would only make him stumble. Jude was not actually as old as he looked, and his sense of time was garbled by what felt slow and fast, what felt near and far. No wonder he had such enormous problems with Near Farr.
Oh no. Burley was not an actual place. Jude shifted the woman from the category of 'clueless but helpful' to 'ignorant in a malevolent way', the same category he had placed Near in. What were they going to do now?! Near was about as useful as a rotten banana; he squished under slight pressure. Drunk Jude didn't feel capable of taking anyone in a fair fight.
(Of course, there's always the unfair fight.)
"I really can't stay here," Jude decided to insist. "It would be bad, if anyone found me. Especially with other people around." Still, he came around the truck, shifting his backpack to his back and peering into the bed of the truck at the bird. The woman was speaking gibberish, but the rhythm of it was soothing and familiar. Interference. Rearranging. Complication. Where it's coming from. Yes, it sounded like that.
Jude climbed back into the bed of the truck to retrieve the owl. Though the tarp could have provided a buffer, he did not hesitate to handle the corpse directly. Its hollow body drooped in his hands. Its beak sagged open. The deadness was also familiar.
He sat and awkwardly slid from the truck bed again, extending the owl in front of him at arm's length. "How long is this going to take?" Jude felt more confident asking questions, now that they're on a topic he's more familiar with. They couldn't rearrange all night, interference or not.
Oh no. Burley was not an actual place. Jude shifted the woman from the category of 'clueless but helpful' to 'ignorant in a malevolent way', the same category he had placed Near in. What were they going to do now?! Near was about as useful as a rotten banana; he squished under slight pressure. Drunk Jude didn't feel capable of taking anyone in a fair fight.
(Of course, there's always the unfair fight.)
"I really can't stay here," Jude decided to insist. "It would be bad, if anyone found me. Especially with other people around." Still, he came around the truck, shifting his backpack to his back and peering into the bed of the truck at the bird. The woman was speaking gibberish, but the rhythm of it was soothing and familiar. Interference. Rearranging. Complication. Where it's coming from. Yes, it sounded like that.
Jude climbed back into the bed of the truck to retrieve the owl. Though the tarp could have provided a buffer, he did not hesitate to handle the corpse directly. Its hollow body drooped in his hands. Its beak sagged open. The deadness was also familiar.
He sat and awkwardly slid from the truck bed again, extending the owl in front of him at arm's length. "How long is this going to take?" Jude felt more confident asking questions, now that they're on a topic he's more familiar with. They couldn't rearrange all night, interference or not.