4/29 - tower
From the tower, he can see all there is in his Kingdom. From the tower, he can rule his lands, protected from all evil. From the tower, he can watch the sun rise over the forests and set over the mountains. From the tower, he can let his dreams wander, as he sleeps comfortably.
In the tower, he can hide from the world. In the tower, he can be protected from ever having to talk to a soul. In the tower, he can forget all he ever learned of love.
In the tower, he can die in peace.
4/30 - choice
He hates that they have made him choose. It is an impossible choice, and he knows it. He has run through every possible option in his head a thousand times, and there is no third option, no easy way out. He must choose one or the other, and he must choose soon. He was always an optimist, always a dreamer, the kind of kid who grew up believing Kirk when he said there was no such thing as a no-win situation.
Now he's in one, and he's going to have make the choice.
He'll do it in the morning.
5/1 - seagull
He figures out another word, and pencils it in. This gives him some good letters to work with, so he checks another clue-
He lets out a grumpy sigh and begins wracking his brain for ideas about who the last king of Hungary might have been. Four letters, starts with a-
Every day. Every day he comes out on his balcony, overlooking the beach, and does that. Every single day. Twenty years and counting. He will not-
He will, he firmly repeats to himself, not let some goddamn bird ruin his perfect record.
5/2 - light
There's only one light left in the city, after the fall. It's one of the old bilboards, near the center of town, and for whatever reason the lights illuminating it still come on every night.
It's not long before a tent city springs up in front of it, half in worship and half out of simple need for comfort against the darkness. They don't know what the light means any more, nor can they read the words on the sign, but it is light.
And in dark times like these, sometimes a light in the dark is enough.
5/3 - home
She is convinced that there are very few feelings in the world better than getting home after a long day. The familiarity of everything-your front steps, your door, your annoying sticky keyhole, your creaky hallway floorboards, your bathroom-it's all such a welcome relief after a stressful day of elsewhere. And of course, being home means you can relax and get a nice cold drink, and wash your face, and maybe even take a nap. Which of course means skimping on work, but whatever, work can get done later.
She unlocks the front door, and steps blissfully inside.
5/4 - tired
It's more than just exhaustion. It's the kind of tired she can feel like a solid weight, tied to each of her limbs. It's the kind of tired that comes from too many hours spent doing too much work for too little thanks. She knows her work is important, she knows it helps people, she knows someone has to do it.
Sometimes, though, she'd just rather sleep. Just rather
give up. Let somebody else deal with all of this shit. Let it be someone else's problem for once.
But she doesn't.
So she sits up, and goes back to work.
5/5 - chasm
The rift between them grows deeper by the day.
They don't eat meals together any more. Too much else to do. Food is eaten in front of computers, on trains, on the way out the door.
Their sleeping hours have changed. He's up late writing; she's up early for work. They can't find each other even in dreams.
At some point they notice they haven't spoken to one another in weeks. Then months.
It isn't a marriage any more. Just cohabitation.
There's nothing to do about it, though. Nothing to change.
They just keep living, and cry themselves to sleep.