garden — nessa & vin
Oct 15, 2023 13:04:04 GMT -5
Post by fox on Oct 15, 2023 13:04:04 GMT -5
☾
nights are louder without Sindri. when i was little i could never sleep, restless hearing the vague inclinations of the end of the world twined in the roots. the world sighed of its troubles, and i lay awake to listen in the wash of its storm, the crowing rooster, the fire, a war. in death, i always had him.
here, i sleep with the lights on.
here, i don't really sleep at all.
the shadow hangs in the corner. it is always there now, nameless and orange. it says nothing but follows, sits in the room.
sometimes, i tell myself all the things i know. where i am. why i am here. it's easier, i think. to recount then to listen.
in my hands, i braid a link of daisies. i slit the stems with my thumb and thread the little flowers through. Vin, the sparrow says. yes, Vin, my name. in my seventeenth year. they called me spámaðr. i miss Sindri. these are daisies between my fingers. those are bluebells. wood aster. wild leek. those are henbane. Frigg's flowers.
and a girl, growing amongst the flowers. she steps through the plots of plants, looking at their colours.
the link of daisies end.
her footsteps echo. i look up and trace her face, blue in the fluorescent light, sound in a distant in the wind. "hi."
