[The night sky has been...different for him, since the angel's blessing. It's like it was on their first day here, in their shared dream state before everything was destroyed; looking up was like seeing into eternity then, bringing with it a connection to the universe that he finds difficult to explain.
The stars swirl overhead, in their own dizzying way; it's honestly one of the best things that's been bestowed upon him.]
I can imagine that a lot of things we do down here would stop feeling as necessary, yeah. When it's put that way, I mean.
[It sounds good, in its own way. It's something he's sure he's not grasping in its entirety, but that's okay; what matters is it sounds nice, and while most of it's being given to him by way of rote recitation there's always something calming about finding one's place, or at least somewhere that can serve that purpose for a while.
Is this his place now? He doesn't really know, nor does he know if these people are his in any way. That sort of feeling is still reserved for the Scarboroughs and the Flynns and for poor goddamn Riley, for Sarah and Erin and Mildred, the last of whom he doesn't really want to consider.
God, the last person he'd made any sort of physical contact with before coming here had been Bev. Isn't that an entire can of worms.]
We didn't have that same sense of practicality you're talking about, where I'm from. Just a lot of... Well, as you said, doing what we could with what we had. The community was dying out; it was about a hundred people or so, if that many. I don't know when the last time we counted that was.
But the people that were there were worth staying for. I intended to keep serving them until I was no longer needed - until either the community itself died, or I did.
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The stars swirl overhead, in their own dizzying way; it's honestly one of the best things that's been bestowed upon him.]
I can imagine that a lot of things we do down here would stop feeling as necessary, yeah. When it's put that way, I mean.
[It sounds good, in its own way. It's something he's sure he's not grasping in its entirety, but that's okay; what matters is it sounds nice, and while most of it's being given to him by way of rote recitation there's always something calming about finding one's place, or at least somewhere that can serve that purpose for a while.
Is this his place now? He doesn't really know, nor does he know if these people are his in any way. That sort of feeling is still reserved for the Scarboroughs and the Flynns and for poor goddamn Riley, for Sarah and Erin and Mildred, the last of whom he doesn't really want to consider.
God, the last person he'd made any sort of physical contact with before coming here had been Bev. Isn't that an entire can of worms.]
We didn't have that same sense of practicality you're talking about, where I'm from. Just a lot of... Well, as you said, doing what we could with what we had. The community was dying out; it was about a hundred people or so, if that many. I don't know when the last time we counted that was.
But the people that were there were worth staying for. I intended to keep serving them until I was no longer needed - until either the community itself died, or I did.