OPEN | prompt two | LOVE

[wrens]

prompt two | L O V E And what you can never know from the beginning is how hard or how long you'll love something; how even when it is gone the love will chase you down, loping like dark flame through your blood. — Some lies are love. — Love blurs your vision; but after it recedes, you can see more clearly than ever. It's like the tide going out, revealing whatever's been thrown away and sunk: broken bottles, old gloves, rusting pop cans, nibbled fishbodies, bones. This is the kind of thing you see if you sit in the darkness with open eyes, not knowing the future. The ruin you've made.

 

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[aside]

[ Everyone has their stories, Red knows that, so the real question that remains is whether or not a stranger's stories are worth any salt. The world is full of people and each person has their tales to tell. some of which are boons while others are just burdens. Sad tales, happy tales, fairy tales — it doesn't matter. Red is hungry enough to want to taste all of them, to hold a morsel of them on her tongue and decide for herself as to whether they're delicious or not.

Red has a way of smiling, even when she doesn't. It's something to do with the set her of eyebrows, the shape of her mouth and the tone of her voice. ]

But you were once upon a time, [ she ventures. It's not a question. ]