07-23-2024, 09:51 AM
ROSEMARY ROUX
A relieved smile graced the apothecary’s lips. The apothecary hummed Misty Mountains.
Ares’s soft chittering and raspy voice told her more than a fool’s two hundred words. Living in society meant navigating countless lies—white lies, pointless lies, dangerous lies—and pretending you couldn’t see right through the other person.
Ares couldn’t talk, but talking meant lying, and, hell, Rosemary found it easier to understand voiceless Ares than the countless fools who lied to themselves every day of their miserable lives.
Rosemary paused her humming to speak slowly. “I’m going to the market for herbs and food, want to come?” Then she resumed humming and tilted her head, gesturing in the cardinal direction towards the Marketplace. Then a slight smile as she added, “Chicken? Pork? My treat.”
I FEEL SO HUNGRY —
— Dear diary, I don't know what's going on, but something's up / The dog won't stop barking, and I think my TV is bust / Every channel is the same, it's sending me insane / And earlier somebody bit me, what a fucking day / The sky is falling / It's fucking boring / I'm going braindead, isolated / God is a shithead / And we're his rejects / Traumatized for breakfast / I can't stomach any more survival horror / Dear diary, I feel itchy like there's bugs under my skin / The dog's gone rabid (shut the fuck up) / Doing my head in —— WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?