Support Squad Felicity Posted September 23, 2016 Support Squad Share Posted September 23, 2016 His breath is trembling. Well, really all of him is trembling. His body wants to do something to ease the process, to grasp at something solid but he restrains himself. A poisonous brew of fear, uncertainty and the knowledge that nothing he could do would work mixed together and swam through his bloodstream, sent along by the frantic beating of his mutinous heart. Rational thoughts are not the antidote he hopes for. The brains injects him with the concrete knowledge of what can be, the multitude of probabilities that it will all be fine. A small voice whispers though, what if it does happen though? Those rationalisations evaporate so quickly and cleanly, as though they were never there. Worse, it tells him that his luck is just going to be that bad, isn’t it? Frustration seeps in then. Why couldn’t these feelings go away? They had no place within him! Why couldn’t he cast them out like evil spirits, damn them to the blackest, loneliest and most painful pits of his mind? His breath changes. It is now hoarse, his eyes gleam with fury as he stares at himself in the mirror. It wasn’t simple childishness, it was pure idiocy. The anger cools, he turns to temporary distractions. Father time is the target, this controller is the means by which he dies. The feelings slowly creep back though. He trembles again. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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