"It's too late for me to change." He says it without really thinking about it, about where to take it after that. Looking down at the space between his feet and the bathtub opposite them.
"...There's wasn't anything I could change." There wasn't any other choice. He sighs, leaning his weight towards the side his pillows, a hand on them. "People were kept alive just to dream us. My own old man became part of the cycle. People were dying. The world was dying. There wasn't any other way."
But there's something weak about that end, hollow in its delivery.
no subject
"...There's wasn't anything I could change." There wasn't any other choice. He sighs, leaning his weight towards the side his pillows, a hand on them. "People were kept alive just to dream us. My own old man became part of the cycle. People were dying. The world was dying. There wasn't any other way."
But there's something weak about that end, hollow in its delivery.