[ kaveh thinks so audibly that his thoughts manifest as a third entity in this room. because those that are named hold no power over you, alhaitham names it: the entity is named grief. the uncovering of sachin's ploy is a single step towards closure. the disclosure to kaveh had been for the sole sake of binding a book shut with string dyed in blood - the final chapter laid to rest. the thing about the ending of a story is that it does not address the reader who must live with it. kaveh leans forward at alhaithiam's behest, and alhaitham reads the lines of tension in his body that have nothing to do with pain and discomfort. he reads grief.
a diadem on the rainforest floor. a smirk on the fading lips of a long-dead ghost.
another ghost, haunting the annals of kaveh's memory, a force unto itself. alhaitham does not remember his own father. even if he did, he is not under any illusion that the nonexistence well of his sympathy would allow him to relate. but alhaitham, too, knows loss. the draw of towel over kaveh's wounds elicits the faint squeeze of kaveh's eyes. alhaitham, too, reads this without needing to see it. it is plain in the shifting of the contours of kaveh's cheeks; it is plain in the tension of his body. this is a language that alhaitham has gained fluency in over time. wounds washed, he puts aside the towel, letting blood diffuse into the water basin. alhaitham take tweezers from the kit. he leans in.
no subject
a diadem on the rainforest floor. a smirk on the fading lips of a long-dead ghost.
another ghost, haunting the annals of kaveh's memory, a force unto itself. alhaitham does not remember his own father. even if he did, he is not under any illusion that the nonexistence well of his sympathy would allow him to relate. but alhaitham, too, knows loss. the draw of towel over kaveh's wounds elicits the faint squeeze of kaveh's eyes. alhaitham, too, reads this without needing to see it. it is plain in the shifting of the contours of kaveh's cheeks; it is plain in the tension of his body. this is a language that alhaitham has gained fluency in over time. wounds washed, he puts aside the towel, letting blood diffuse into the water basin. alhaitham take tweezers from the kit. he leans in.
apropos of nothing, this is what he says: ]
Our inkwells run low.