It isn't a thought he hasn't had, but it's never been entertained as anything more than a fleeting daydream, of light touch and as transparent as the wind. It was patently impossible to do in the Village, and here on the island, it feels like he can do nothing but aimlessly persist. A ghost stuck in its ways. Unable to move on.
"That's true. I don't think I could go back." ... "Perhaps. Perhaps it is that. That the world I am trying to hold, it was... made by a man who is gone." Useless now, without its owner. A thing that doesn't belong to him.
He wrings his hands, a little. "I... well. I wish it fit. Not that it's a bad thing to change, but you know, it... well, it wasn't full of sunshine and flowers, but I, uh... er..."
He's back to answering her directly, at least. That's a good sign.
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It isn't a thought he hasn't had, but it's never been entertained as anything more than a fleeting daydream, of light touch and as transparent as the wind. It was patently impossible to do in the Village, and here on the island, it feels like he can do nothing but aimlessly persist. A ghost stuck in its ways. Unable to move on.
He thinks of grasses, and roots.
"That's true. I don't think I could go back." ... "Perhaps. Perhaps it is that. That the world I am trying to hold, it was... made by a man who is gone." Useless now, without its owner. A thing that doesn't belong to him.
He wrings his hands, a little. "I... well. I wish it fit. Not that it's a bad thing to change, but you know, it... well, it wasn't full of sunshine and flowers, but I, uh... er..."
He's back to answering her directly, at least. That's a good sign.