Duck Lake burning cities and napalm skies

He could feel the saliva formulating as he realized the potential Pandora’s box that could have been unleashed. With a thick swallow he was glad that she continued with her own tale rather than pressing for his. There had been no need to him to share his own misfortunes, and he hoped he could continue his cowardice for just a little longer. The calm sense of darkness that invaded his mind and held his secrets close to his heart, he wasn’t sure he could let himself go just yet. To let the monster out and play.

So he pushed himself to focus instead. Focus on the words depicting the death and separation of another family. Siarut couldn’t help the self-loathing that came with her vacant recanting. While their similarities sprang from loneliness, their differences stemmed from their stories. Her story so dead and lacking emotion, yet heroic in it’s morals. The northern man could not say the same.

Guilt fissured in his chest, as he once again dipped his head. “I am sorry to hear that. Truly… I would not wish this on anyone.” Indicating their shared predicament. “Did you find anyone?” Hope glimmered in his words, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to look the woman in the eye, not wanting her to see his fear. Fear of finding anyone he cared for, yet being met with rejection.