[ He glances to her, notices her skin, and briefly wonders if he's hallucinating. If the voice has been replaced by something else.
No; that doesn't make sense.
His lips part, as though he's about to speak, and then his mouth closes again. He drifts further into the greenhouse, but doesn't touch any of the plants. Lets his eyes rest on them, in turn. He wishes he had tin to burn, to enhance the senses. He feels numb and blind without it. ]
Why are they... like this? [ He struggles with the question. It just seems so absurd to him. ]
no subject
No; that doesn't make sense.
His lips part, as though he's about to speak, and then his mouth closes again. He drifts further into the greenhouse, but doesn't touch any of the plants. Lets his eyes rest on them, in turn. He wishes he had tin to burn, to enhance the senses. He feels numb and blind without it. ]
Why are they... like this? [ He struggles with the question. It just seems so absurd to him. ]