There it was, that Sun again. The Sun, the Sun, always the thing people returned to. What was so wonderful about light? Light exposed, and even in the Socialite's words, watched. The Tailor was reminded of the thing in their dream: light that saw and judged. Bright and blinding and something to be hated.
(But that was a dream. That couldn't be a Sun.)
"If they're not so different," the Tailor said darkly, more to themself than to the Socialite, "then why come down here at all?"
They realized belatedly they'd spoken aloud, and the cup nearly clattered when the Tailor looked up quickly, nearly stumbling to correct, "That was rhetorical, of course!"
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regna
Re: ... an invited guest arrives.
Date: 2025-07-01 03:41 am (UTC)(But that was a dream. That couldn't be a Sun.)
"If they're not so different," the Tailor said darkly, more to themself than to the Socialite, "then why come down here at all?"
They realized belatedly they'd spoken aloud, and the cup nearly clattered when the Tailor looked up quickly, nearly stumbling to correct, "That was rhetorical, of course!"