The blue toy is the whole story. Not the music box she would have made of it, with its lid and its tune and its clean images. The actual thing: ugly, already too old, arms flung out for no reason, laughing at being shaken. A grief that has no dignity and will not be given any. The voice cannot get into that room not because he is stronger than her, but because the real thing inside it is too absurd to be made beautiful. That absurdity is the last private thing he has. She feels it. She knows. And so she waits. Loved it
Awestruck. The emotion, the spookiness. Such a well crafted piece.
Thank you so much.
The build-up on this was so good, I was on the edge of my seat begging for this man's grief to remain intact. So unsettling.
Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it. In an unsettling way.
Keeping things that matter too much.
That IS grim.
Creepy enough!
The blue toy is the whole story. Not the music box she would have made of it, with its lid and its tune and its clean images. The actual thing: ugly, already too old, arms flung out for no reason, laughing at being shaken. A grief that has no dignity and will not be given any. The voice cannot get into that room not because he is stronger than her, but because the real thing inside it is too absurd to be made beautiful. That absurdity is the last private thing he has. She feels it. She knows. And so she waits. Loved it
Thank you.