[anna doesn't know what she wants anymore either. it's led to so many more problems than it reasonably should have. but here she is, inside a ruined lighthouse, speaking to a woman whose name she only thinks she knows. and maybe the poetry's getting away from her, but when you see a mysterious woman entombed on a sounding sea, what else are you going to call her?]
Is there food? [she says it with a quiet sort of amusement, looking around the room. the blood, the glass, the bones. it feels more like a car wreck than a lighthouse, but she'll leave her musical references for another day. she looks at the woman again, not in a scrutinizing way. it's pity. it sits on her face like it's not been there in a while.]
no subject
Is there food? [she says it with a quiet sort of amusement, looking around the room. the blood, the glass, the bones. it feels more like a car wreck than a lighthouse, but she'll leave her musical references for another day. she looks at the woman again, not in a scrutinizing way. it's pity. it sits on her face like it's not been there in a while.]
Is it all right to come closer?