He was impatient to show his father and his brother the waterfall. But mother had said ‘together’ and so he would wait until they were together again. But since coming up all the way up here, they had divided out a lot more. Going solo, knowing how to find each other if they needed to, the—so to speak—apron strings of his mother had become long, though intact.
Faolan liked this. The lack of anyone telling him what to do or “suggesting” action was invigorating. He did what he wanted, when he wanted.
And right now, the little firstborn was laying flat on his belly on the bank of the river. Far enough back that he wouldn’t accidentally slip into the ice and rocks and frigid water, but close enough that he could observe. He had realized quickly how the color of the water seemed to change as the sun dipped lower, and now he was watching it almost obsessively as it went darker and then orange… less light to reflect that was blue. It was almost black and orange to his eyes now, as the sun went down behind him and everything began to cool.
What was color, then, if the time of day changed so much about it?
Sep 13, 2017 02:19 PM
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