[ John's expression is nearly unreadable, like this. Perhaps he did not want Alecto eating his castle. That would make sense. She molds the sand herself, long and thin, like a toy. A sword. A tower. ]
The world is not made of dreams. [ She says, almost scolding. How could John not know? He loves the world. ] The world is dirt and blood and sky and water.
[ Things that taste good. Things Alecto shovels into her mouth, as if she could make herself one of them. Perhaps that is her dream: to be anything other than this. ]
no subject
The world is not made of dreams. [ She says, almost scolding. How could John not know? He loves the world. ] The world is dirt and blood and sky and water.
[ Things that taste good. Things Alecto shovels into her mouth, as if she could make herself one of them. Perhaps that is her dream: to be anything other than this. ]
What is the devil? I do not know it.