I got sunshine in my stomach
Tick. Tock.
Haze doesn't know it, but Mythra can feel time as it goes by.
Tick. Tock.
Soundless. Immediate. Constant. She sees it moving itself along the same way she sees words and notes and colors and weights.
Tick.
She doesn't wish a respite from the thoughts and images; that would be...so much worse.
Tock.
She doesn't understand human emotion or feeling, but it all comes down to a series of associations, doesn't it?
breath and pain,
muscles and hair,
shapes and colors,
sounds and voices,
HAZE
Too many per moment. Mythra feels sick. Who could fix this?
Haze.