Archives for December 3, 2004

For Dorrito’s Every Flavour Mood Beans.

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Blah

Remus has stopped wishing for the sun. He isn’t sure precisely when he gave up hope of some distant, bright future and settled himself so easily into overcast. He supposes that to recognize light, one must be able to recall dark.

His fingers work without him, leafing through parchment, sorting and binding the short scrolls that once represented flesh and blood, transformed now to meaningless text. Even the wolf can no longer find a scent. Dear Remus, he reads, noting date and time. He files them away, thinking absently of lunch, betrayed by the healing powers of his own mind.