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Tap

Tap

Tap

Sounds of bones against a thin glass screen were the only sounds that could be heard here, in this forgotten yet not so neglected garden.

Habit. Somehow he had adopted this dreadful habit. It was his phone after all. He had no excuse to not use it. To not see the world slipping him by. Continue to slip him by.

He knew the game between he and Reset were long over, but he couldn’t help but entertain the idea this could be some sort of creative new punishment. 

There was yet another alternative that bore his face- his whole face- and seemed lived in peace. True peace. If he could feel, he’d feel cheated.

But he felt nothing.

There was the Papyrus, the strange one with mold on his bones. Always seeming to tease his handler playfully- flirtatiously. They were, it seemed, to be married if read correctly.

Still, he felt nothing.

There was the Sans that had nearly stole from him some time ago. His eyes had looked like his own assistants. Red. Hopeless. He understood the meaning now after all. And yet, rather than follow his footsteps, the alternate had begun the path to recovery.