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Jun. 16th, 2012 11:17 pmIt took him a while to get a hang of English on top of the multitude of languages crowding his skull, some dead, some still living. That was his path- living with the dead, dying with the living. What did he care if his 'r's rolled off his tongue too swiftly? What did he care if his 's's were the sibilant angry hisses of snakes about to kill?
Not much, really, which was why he was sitting against the brick of a building in some American city watching people go by. He'd gotten sick of the looks he'd gotten when speaking, some disdainful, some teeth-grittingly infatuated. So he had an accent? So did they, from what he could tell.
The heat of the city had settled an itch into his bones, though. He watched people pass with a mild expression, waiting for something better to come along and sweep him up. He did love to be swept up; he loved even more when he did the sweeping in return.
Not much, really, which was why he was sitting against the brick of a building in some American city watching people go by. He'd gotten sick of the looks he'd gotten when speaking, some disdainful, some teeth-grittingly infatuated. So he had an accent? So did they, from what he could tell.
The heat of the city had settled an itch into his bones, though. He watched people pass with a mild expression, waiting for something better to come along and sweep him up. He did love to be swept up; he loved even more when he did the sweeping in return.
