always and forever is forever young
your shadow on the pavement, the dark side of the sun
Mallos hadn’t dreamed either, but his sleep quality was still poor. It was just sleep, a level only marginally deeper than drowsiness – unconscious enough to not be able to think consciously, but still aware of the room around him. He was wired, his body ready for an alarm. The softest knock on the door would have had him leaping off the sofa.

Croe moved silently, so he didn’t actually awaken until she leant over him. By the time she sat back and started speaking, his eyes were open, he was sat bolt upright and he was running his fingers through his hair with one hand. The other hand tapped an unrecognisable pattern against the arm of the sofa. The details of the room seemed clearer, sharper – they leapt out at him from every angle, demanding attention. The spluttering lamp on the desk. The whorls in the wooden shelves. The gritty pencil lines of the water-bird, enlivening its fictional bid for freedom.

Mallos knew this feeling. Sperantia called it time for you to be walked. Hyperactivity charged through his veins, making his body move of its own accord and heightening his senses in a way which made the world seem crisper and more colourful. It was on days when he woke up in this mood that he did the things which earned him adjectives like reckless, stupid. Days like this usually ended in Tsi’s or Arthur’s office, being dictated to. Don’t do this, don’t do that. Very creative, Mallos, but add it to your list of banned activities on your way out.

That list never seemed to get shorter.

He couldn’t stay here. These four walls had never seemed smaller. But he also couldn’t leave Croe, especially since Arthur had said he would send someone to collect her in the morning. The soft glow of dawn crept through the open window; it was morning now. Mallos briefly considered spending some of his excess energy on a spell to stop time, but given his current inability to focus on any one thing for more than a second, he’d probably mess it up.

Croe had said something, but he’d missed it. Focus – he needed to focus on something. Impulsively he kicked his sketchpad off the coffee table, stood up, kissed Croe, moved over to the desk and flicked the paraffin lamp off. The little flame spluttered out with a relieved sigh. Mallos picked it up and twisted the bottom off, revealing an interesting mess of specialist equipment underneath. Plucking at the pieces gave him enough of a second focus that he could finally maintain a conversation.

“Sleep well?” He enquired politely while ripping a nut out from under the lamp.

i can feel you in the silence saying, “let forever be,
love, and only love, will set you free.”