| Face To Face (Nanshe) |
[16 Jan 2008|06:52pm] |
Things faded in and out, came to be and were forgotten. An ice pack. Curry. Water. Aspirin. All of it assailed him in dream-like waves, endless shifting things that he couldn't control. Much as the rest of his life, lately, had seemed some sort of dream he couldn't distinguish the real from the unreal. There was silence. A murmured word or two, and then nothing. And at last when he opened his eyes and the world seemed as he remembered it days upon days ago, she was there. Nanshe. She'd fought her way into his heart and taken over without so much as a whimper from him. All-unknowing Shamash had been content to think her odd, shy, too reserved for his company. And somehow she'd turned him into the creature he'd been before. In the ziggurat or elsewhere, when he loved man instead of fearing what man was capable of doing. No one could ever care for mankind like that dimwit Enki, no one could possibly be so whimsically fascinated by it like the ancient one. But Shamash had tried. He'd tried, and he'd gotten precisely nowhere. Nanshe had healed him of that cynicism before he knew it.
There was still work to be done, wasn't there?
( There always would be. )
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