𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙳𝚄𝚂𝚃 𝚂𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙻𝙴𝚂; 𝙰𝙵𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝙰𝚃𝚃𝙻𝙴, 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃'𝚂 𝙻𝙴𝙵𝚃 ? a woman made of wonder, a man lost to time. they are both sweaty and spent, their hands full of rubble ––– a woman prays underneath a pile of debris and her prayers are answered, a strong hand lifting her from material and reuniting her with her family. first responders crowd the scene, their own faces scorched with soot; soon all is made to dust. soon the flames are put out and calm replaces the initial panic. ❝ we have done what we can, do you think ? ❞ the dust settles and is replaced with speckled air. an ambulance arrives and opens its doors, pulls injured bodies inwards. ❝ i expect a few more responders to be on their way. if you can spare more time, i would like to remain here until they arrive. ❞ the dust settles and they stand as guardians of this place. @enguerra watches her close. a siren bellows in the distance as he speaks: ‘ there's so much more to you than they see. ’ and she cannot help but shrug.
the arms cross over a gold - plated chest, loose and friendly. her nostrils fill with fire - choked air and the wetness of harsh water, and her eyes dart from burnt building to him. she’s been told she bears it well: the wonder, the awe that comes from existing in this world, but that is merely the beginning of her skin. ❝ is that true ? then –– what else do you see ? ❞
