Fool; not as if she cares or anything of that idiotic sort. ( Ah; how the maroon glitters and shines in their psychological sense, much more than that of natural surroundings; rust has not looked upon flower & as such has not been in its valued presence for some time, so gratefulness is high. Shan’t admit now, but there is no rhyme for liars. )
{ ✘♟✘ }
The silent is grateful for unspoken to remain. { anticipation could put entire planets to asteroid ruin, let alone a bug of a girl. she is tiny, insignificant in her wait to rummage for words her neurological system barely allows to travel to appendage. }
A familiar face, indeed. He had believed her to have vanished off the face of the islands, an unfortunate thought considering she had been one of the more tolerable students on the island. Such a belief did not stem from her silence, but her intelligence proven once upon a trial. It would be a lie to claim that her whereabouts do not cross his mind once in a blue moon.
Slender figure bends in order to more clearly read her mode of communication. “It has been quite awhile, has it not? Have you been ill? Although you are not a competitor for the title of "sociable student”, your absence has been noticed.“ By him, anyways. Standing straight, he is patient. Patient with the young mute woman.
{ ✘♟✘ }
Oddly enough, she thinks back to her absence and cannot remember more than sleeping away days for how long? time is barren in this period, this girl thinks longer than needed, that much is clear. And where she had been for that, it would be…? She really doesn’t know. What is certain is that she has been slipping into short periods of hibernation with bouts of hazy consciousness in between. If she takes the factor of sickness into account…
Pause, if evident in presentation, will be present before she begins her reply.
[ yeah, it has. it’s nice to see you again. about being gone…uhm, i think i was sleeping- not sure where exactly- just sleeping? i don’t think i was sick, but i might be wrong- actually, being sick seems pretty possible. ] she pens, words being crossed and scribbled out along the way as she contemplates in casual syntax.
“A book with no name, no author nor any lines, you say? Hmm…”
“Perhaps that someone ought to have read it? You must remember that no book in existence cannot tell a tale. The conception of the text itself to the hands that held it speaks a story in itself. Why was the book placed there, then? And by whom? What was to be their goal?”
“See, Hana, there is always a story to be read. As for whom…perhaps the wayward traveler may find it!”
{ ✘♟✘ }
❝ …Guess you’re right- whoever found it, the wayward traveler or whoever, would be pretty unlucky, though. ❞
❝ To have a book with no content, only the stuff behind it…you’d have to have a bit of imagination and determination to figure all that stuff out, right? ❞
❝ …That is, if you could even figure out that the book was empty. It’d probably be ruined by the elements, and maybe you’d think that maybe there actually was once something in the book- but really, there would be nothing, just washed out pages to make you think that there was something when there was… ❞
❝ 'If someone lays a book down in the middle of a field, and the book has no name, and the book has no author, and the book has no lines to it…who will read it?‘ ❞
