08-27-2024, 04:30 PM
"Everything depends on who you ask," Jude says, utterly exasperated. Who you ask determines the weather, what time it is, whether it's a good day or a bad day. He is asking one specific person: Near. It is just like Near to dodge every question, or provide the most slippery non-answer.
The question Near asks though is more concrete. What can Jude do? Jude looks at Near a little harder, with narrowed eyes. He is considering answering -- even though no answer has ever satisfied Near. Nothing satisfies Near. He is a bored, unsatisfied man.
He gets up off the couch and comes to the kitchen with a sigh. It would be easier for Near to just bring the food to the coffee table, but fine. "Your bowls?" he says, opening one cabinet and checking it. Wrong cabinet, spice cabinet. He moves to the next.
Jude thinks of asking, Do you really want to know?, but then Near will say whatever, he doesn't, sulky little boy that he is. Again, Jude has never been in charge of his own explanations, and in his cross-country tours he has been preaching to the choir: they already knew the verses. They were assured of his ability to change -- end -- the world.
"I can change one thing into another thing. I can bring dead things back to life. I can fold space -- like you would fold a piece of paper, and touch the opposite ends together -- then cross it. Then unfold it." He finds the bowls in the cabinet and brings them down. "I don't usually resurrect anything though. It's..." He wrinkles his eyebrows together. "My Family said it was distracting." He glances around the counter. "Where's the mango lassi?"
The question Near asks though is more concrete. What can Jude do? Jude looks at Near a little harder, with narrowed eyes. He is considering answering -- even though no answer has ever satisfied Near. Nothing satisfies Near. He is a bored, unsatisfied man.
He gets up off the couch and comes to the kitchen with a sigh. It would be easier for Near to just bring the food to the coffee table, but fine. "Your bowls?" he says, opening one cabinet and checking it. Wrong cabinet, spice cabinet. He moves to the next.
Jude thinks of asking, Do you really want to know?, but then Near will say whatever, he doesn't, sulky little boy that he is. Again, Jude has never been in charge of his own explanations, and in his cross-country tours he has been preaching to the choir: they already knew the verses. They were assured of his ability to change -- end -- the world.
"I can change one thing into another thing. I can bring dead things back to life. I can fold space -- like you would fold a piece of paper, and touch the opposite ends together -- then cross it. Then unfold it." He finds the bowls in the cabinet and brings them down. "I don't usually resurrect anything though. It's..." He wrinkles his eyebrows together. "My Family said it was distracting." He glances around the counter. "Where's the mango lassi?"