Status: OLD SCHOOL ANDROID LOVE LET'S GO
Clothesline
Prologue
HE WONDERS WHAT dying feels like.
Was it like little pinches on the back of your neck or was it an everlasting poke near your lower back?
Dying was common nowadays. Either people started conflict, people craved for conflict, or conflict was intolerable. Clans form and people die. Disease spreads and people die. Or you live one more day and die.
While staring at the boiling pot of water, Rhys Conan furrows his eyebrows at the dark thought of his someday fate. After stirring in a couple of raw potatoes into his pot, Rhys feels his arms start to tense up.
But I didn't get water on me.
The pain is different. It starts on his collarbones and ends at the tips of his fingernails. It feels like someone is slapping their hand on his joints while pushing their weight on his bones. Then the burn slowly moves down the forearms, deliberately poking at his green and blue veins. To finish, it stings. The pain leaves a tingling sensation at the tips of his fingers, almost making him hope to be dead.
After stretching his hand, Rhys gently examines his arm; it looks warm; the word warm doesn't even cut it. His arm is the color of someone kissing a person for the first time and their face lights up. Their cheeks flush in what feels like forever but the redness isn't obvious instead, the cheeks of their face just look livelier. Rhys's arm isn't the same cold, pale hand as it was months ago; it's warm and almost human looking.
Was it like little pinches on the back of your neck or was it an everlasting poke near your lower back?
Dying was common nowadays. Either people started conflict, people craved for conflict, or conflict was intolerable. Clans form and people die. Disease spreads and people die. Or you live one more day and die.
While staring at the boiling pot of water, Rhys Conan furrows his eyebrows at the dark thought of his someday fate. After stirring in a couple of raw potatoes into his pot, Rhys feels his arms start to tense up.
But I didn't get water on me.
The pain is different. It starts on his collarbones and ends at the tips of his fingernails. It feels like someone is slapping their hand on his joints while pushing their weight on his bones. Then the burn slowly moves down the forearms, deliberately poking at his green and blue veins. To finish, it stings. The pain leaves a tingling sensation at the tips of his fingers, almost making him hope to be dead.
After stretching his hand, Rhys gently examines his arm; it looks warm; the word warm doesn't even cut it. His arm is the color of someone kissing a person for the first time and their face lights up. Their cheeks flush in what feels like forever but the redness isn't obvious instead, the cheeks of their face just look livelier. Rhys's arm isn't the same cold, pale hand as it was months ago; it's warm and almost human looking.
♠ ♠ ♠
HERE WE GO