Blahface (ziraray) wrote,

Little nothings.

"She died," he said, leaning forward with eyes and mouth intent, "and everything died.  The water went away, and everything just died, like none of it could exist without her."

Samuel Dalton said nothing.

"And it isn't fair, it isn't fair that all of it left leave when I can't.  I'm stuck here.  I'm rooted here."  He slid his hands across the table, fingers wide open, nails catching in the grooves.  A growing thing.  Roots spreading, taking hold.  "I'm stuck.  I can't leave this place."

Samuel Dalton said nothing.

He sat back, chin set hard, eyes all flint.  "And then you come and find it, bring the water back, like it's nothing.  Like it's just been waiting for you.  But you can't do that with everything.  You can't put a piece of iron in the ground and say, dig here, and bring her back.  Can you.  Can you?  You can't do that."

"I can't do that," Samuel Dalton said softly, and he picked up the glass standing between them and drained it dry.

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