Re: Log: Miles W + Damian W Oh, I am SO not irresponsible! I am like WAY responsible about all sorts of shit, like, I was a true, participatin adult on this earth, before this whole inopportune death thing got me. Misty insists, missing her own quotation marks henceforward for this particular encounter, due to the fact that her simpering would be inaudible to this very fortunate kittenwarden and his interest-kindling opinion on Camus. Her little face was in the configuration of some restless intrigue about this bizarre man and his mountainous abode, still hovering near him like a mosquito selectively dredging for the best pore on which to dine. Miles was entirely indifferent to her, practiced.
“One must certainly suffer into truth,” he agrees, a touch dark, a mite unmasking of a deeprooted blue. He’s never been a cloak-and-dagger type with his innermost heartsores, and certainly, isn’t one who often encounters somebody who can quote ancient playwright veterans of the Battle of Marathon. He doesn’t obscure the reminiscent drawl that the word suffering conjures up, because he’s surely not the only man who thinks at times he might be the breathing personification of it? “Like all dreamers,” says he, “I mistook disenchantment as truth.” Certainly, a quote. He maintains a steady gaze at the fingerjoints of the man as they sifted kittens inward, grinning at the felines corralled in their new-smelling pen. But he lifts his gaze and its wateryhue and says. “She’s the think-out-loud type, prolly asks ‘cause it’s my house. I think if given the opportunity, she’s surely responsible enough.” She just can’t touch anything, he omits.
Surely, if Damian was bored enough to find out that Miles didn’t actually have a sister, but rather a very annoying ghost that nobody would be able to see, at least he’d find no track record of mistreating cats. But rather his being accustomed to mangy mutts that yip and yowl in the boneyard of the bajadas beyond, at scaley things that rattle and spit. Sizzling in summertime heat, those sundry sounds can still haunt a man.