Her fingernails bit into the comfortably worn fabric that made up the chair's armrests. And by the time he tried to tell her that he'd remembered Luceti, she wasn't sure which she actually wanted: his tale to be true or his wits to be addled. If true, then there was hope for memory yet. And if false -- well, she wouldn't have to face the other notions that would have been true as well.
"See, that's -- it's just not possible. We don't get to remember. Jack said. He lived years and...
What was it like? Did everyone else think you were still---?"
no subject
Her fingernails bit into the comfortably worn fabric that made up the chair's armrests. And by the time he tried to tell her that he'd remembered Luceti, she wasn't sure which she actually wanted: his tale to be true or his wits to be addled. If true, then there was hope for memory yet. And if false -- well, she wouldn't have to face the other notions that would have been true as well.
"See, that's -- it's just not possible. We don't get to remember. Jack said. He lived years and...
What was it like? Did everyone else think you were still---?"
Dead.