|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Nov 14, 2017 10:28 am
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Nov 14, 2017 11:45 am
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Nov 14, 2017 12:47 pm
|
|
|
|
Migel
Migel withdrew his hand from the egg in shock, not expecting that level of pain to roll through the touch. And not just any pain, his pain. That was entirely disconcerting. To have his own memories dragged out, amplified, and echoed back to him.
Mother! Father!
He could hear his own mind shouting it, five or six turns old, his body shaking with sobs, unable to speak the words out loud without giving up his friend. He hadn't thought about that day for a long time. Maybe not for turns even. And even when he did, it was like it was something that happened to something else. Or in another life, perhaps.
At some point, he realized that he was still standing at the egg, his hand still hovering a few inches from its shell. Echoes of the egg's thoughts are urging him away. Too much. Too much.
That... Was probably enough Touching for him, he thought, following the egg's wished and backing away from it. He could watch for a while.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|