HEAD EMPTY ☆ recorder

[Keona.]

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keona sibéal ní faoláin.
the typhoon.
the blind dealer.
information.

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[div style="max-width: 360px; font-family: palatino; color: #2a4971; text-align: left; padding-top: 8px; padding-left: 10px; letter-spacing: 2px; font-size: 13px;"]Idir brí is idir muir, Tá mé i dtiúin

There's a moment.  The petite falls entirely silent.  Lost somewhere in her thoughts.  Wondering.  Did her father have anything like that... With her mother's voice?  And if he had, had he left it on his ship?  The one he left to his crew when he brought her to the Typhoon.

Materialistic was not a word that well-described Keona.  Her belongings were fairly limited despite the amount of time she had lived on the island.  A stuffed parrot.  A knife.  A necklace.  A pair of sunglasses.  Her collection of braille books.  Every single thing she owned... A gift from family or friends.  Would they hurt... If their giver went away?  Hushsound had handcrafted her that knife... But she still cherished it.  Perhaps more, in his absence, because it was all she had.

If something hurt... Keona furrowed her brow.  Truthfully, she didn't know what to advise Michael to do.  If she had a recording... Of her mother's voice... She breathed out softly, shaking her head.  "If you destroy it... It's gone.  You can't un-do that."

"You'll lose that piece of him, forever." Maybe that was... Blunt.  Seas.  Keona flicked her ears back.  "I think you should find a safe place for it.  Out of the way, for a while.  That way if, one day, you want to remember, it'll still be there for you."

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© MADI