he told @Abraham that the island was unwell.
he had not told his son that he was unwell — that when his spirited had splintered off into that woman, that it had wounded his spirit as much as his own body.
the sun did not shine upon bartholomew anymore. he knew only the moonlight, the twilight and softest edges of dawn.
the willows whispered to him in his sleep. the voice of a thousand angels who coaxed him into constant oblivion.
it is not over, child.
but it was not so easy as forgiving for sins, was it? his eyes cracked open to peer at the mountain over his shoulder. a landscape the father was not built for.
it was clear.
a punishment created by God Himself for the priest to conquer, to test the strength of his flesh and the will of his spirit.
it was the only place to go.
he had not told his son that he was unwell — that when his spirited had splintered off into that woman, that it had wounded his spirit as much as his own body.
the sun did not shine upon bartholomew anymore. he knew only the moonlight, the twilight and softest edges of dawn.
the willows whispered to him in his sleep. the voice of a thousand angels who coaxed him into constant oblivion.
it is not over, child.
but it was not so easy as forgiving for sins, was it? his eyes cracked open to peer at the mountain over his shoulder. a landscape the father was not built for.
it was clear.
a punishment created by God Himself for the priest to conquer, to test the strength of his flesh and the will of his spirit.
it was the only place to go.
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