The Illusive Man seldom sleeps. Even as a mercenary, rest was unattainable. He’s accustomed to laying in bed for six hours, two of which are actually spent sleeping. He’s restless; he moves often. The only position he finds comfort is when he lies on his stomach, left arm beneath his chin with his mouth and nose buried into the crook, hand cradling the back of his head. When he closes his eyes, they BURN. The rest of the allotted time period is spent staring at the ceiling. Thinking, planning.
First comes the blessing of all that you’ve dreamed, But then comes the curses of diamonds and rings. Only at first did it have its appeal, But now you can’t tell the false from the real. Who can you trust (Who can you trust)
Celtic Zodiac: Birch (The Achiever) | Rowan (The Thinker) | Ash (The Enchanter) | Alder (The Trailblazer) | Willow (The Observer) | Hawthrone (The Illusionist) | Oak (The Stabilizer) | Holly (The Ruler) | Hazel (The Knower)| Vine (The Equalizer) | Ivy (The Survivor) | Reed (The Inquisitor) | Elder (The Seeker) |
It’s a long time after the contact wars. Books came to be a rarity of sorts. Studying them was different now. There were still centers where books were kept, but they were coupled with data devices, omni-tool amenities.
She was flipping through an old book, her own copy of Voltaire’s writings, drinking coffee and enjoying the smell and feel of the near transparent pages.
“When I first met you, I was surprised, you know?”
The Contact Wars haunted his memory. His blood, his sweat, his tears fueled one of those goddamned wars not as a gunslinging vigilante, but a mercenary. Today, Jack Harper found himself in another type of armor: a grey suit & a cyan tie.
He sat beside her. His coffee had a good shot of creamer in it with a few spoonfuls of sugar. Steam tickled his chin. He wore a half-smile worthy of a debutante’s swooning sighs.
The Illusive Man thumbed through a book, savoring the feel of the pages. Crime & Punishment.
