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noah drabbles1. Alonenoah drabbles in Scraps
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Thinking he might be left to his own thoughts, he forces himself to remember that she’s still there
under the filtered light, lying still, drone of daytime television drowning out whatever’s become of the other residents
He had hoped that there might be a better life for them waiting at the end of it, that there might be a helping hand just around the corner, just around the next week, or year.
The curtain clips the end of the bedrails but he isn’t quick enough to catch it - watching it return to its place against the wall, silently.
If only he could touch her - just once - and gather himself whole again.
and when, on still cold nights,
she would lift her chin and stare into the stars
if she were a wolf she would howl long, nose pointed at the star he once was
but through her
the weight of someone at her shoulders, close enough to smell
like their ancestors, now dead and dust
he should have been a star with them
but when pe