I REACH FOR KINDNESS IN YOUR HEART TONIGHT
It continues. He squirms, now, the little whispers of the broken boy fill the half-cave like a frightened elephant. His chest feels tight, his stomach leaden. No. No, no, how weak her father is no, no, no, no - he doesn’t want to think about sad kids and weak dads and wandering into the forest’s heart to find mother sobbing over a man who might never come back. The man was his father. And now it is him.
Does he?
Toro presses his flank to the wall, harder now, as if he could lean into it and disappear, be melded into the mountainside and become one with the rock and silence. His endeavor fails, but he has hope.
He is reminded of a great many things that jab at his soul in the night, in the day, at all times but he keeps it away so well, so so well but his father gave up when he didn’t get what he wanted and so -
”You’re stronger for not giving up.” His tone is bitter and maybe too harsh but father didn’t care when the going got tough until there was nothing left to fight for. Except his family. Except his wife. Except his child. Toro’s lip twists into a snarl and he looks away; it’s not this one’s fault, but it rings too familiar and he wants to beat the shit out of all the words living in the shrine.
@
"What I say,"
What I think,
