He looks down briefly as he listens in a small bow of sympathy. Because he doesn't understand and can't even imagine - and yet weirdly, a small part of him somewhere feels like it does and can.
And that same part (his soul? being? mind?) makes sense of what he doesn't understand from her words. She's not really speaking clearly and the whole thing is confusing ... but even if he doesn't quite get it, he doesn't question it, the same way he doesn't question giants or little men or logs: the same way he doesn't ask them too much in the end because he trusts he'll understand later.
Well ... most likely.
"Not the same ... Because you were whole."
Both a question and an assumption and thinking out loud, trying to catch up. The repeat is to anchor it somewhere. Make it more true.
A moment of silence - and then, perhaps, a simpler question.
no subject
And that same part (his soul? being? mind?) makes sense of what he doesn't understand from her words. She's not really speaking clearly and the whole thing is confusing ... but even if he doesn't quite get it, he doesn't question it, the same way he doesn't question giants or little men or logs: the same way he doesn't ask them too much in the end because he trusts he'll understand later.
Well ... most likely.
"Not the same ... Because you were whole."
Both a question and an assumption and thinking out loud, trying to catch up. The repeat is to anchor it somewhere. Make it more true.
A moment of silence - and then, perhaps, a simpler question.
"Why Heather?"