[ But he couldn't help the little wiggle back in his seat to rub his back against the cushion because his skin still itched. Forced scarring still felt a bit like the scarring he had from falling off his bike years ago; the skin itching as it healed. He would put bandages on those to keep from digging at the scabs. ]
My father? That doesn't make sense. I mean -
[ And there was a wave of dizziness and he wasn't sitting on the ridiculously expensive white sofa but standing in a traditional Thai house, shoulders curved to keep his head from knocking into the ceiling and tears running down his face. His father was laying on a cot, blood seeping into the padding from the stump where a leg should be, while a frantic doctor - German accented English, shaking hands - was ordering his father to take a dose of some kind of medicine. But his father was speaking to him, at him, about the death of his real father. ]
...oh god. [ He swallowed. He could still taste the blood and gunpowder in the air, feel the glass and broken wood under his feet, hear the buzz of insects and muttering voices. ]
no subject
[ But he couldn't help the little wiggle back in his seat to rub his back against the cushion because his skin still itched. Forced scarring still felt a bit like the scarring he had from falling off his bike years ago; the skin itching as it healed. He would put bandages on those to keep from digging at the scabs. ]
My father? That doesn't make sense. I mean -
[ And there was a wave of dizziness and he wasn't sitting on the ridiculously expensive white sofa but standing in a traditional Thai house, shoulders curved to keep his head from knocking into the ceiling and tears running down his face. His father was laying on a cot, blood seeping into the padding from the stump where a leg should be, while a frantic doctor - German accented English, shaking hands - was ordering his father to take a dose of some kind of medicine. But his father was speaking to him, at him, about the death of his real father. ]
...oh god. [ He swallowed. He could still taste the blood and gunpowder in the air, feel the glass and broken wood under his feet, hear the buzz of insects and muttering voices. ]