Faded
Wednesday, March 24th, 2010Book remembers his childhood with a fineness, such as he finds in the thin pages of his ever-present Bible.
Book remembers his childhood with a fineness, such as he finds in the thin pages of his ever-present Bible.
Zoe counts on both hands the number of times it has happened.
Simon wonders if he’ll ever regret having a conscience.
Inara closed her eyes. Though decadence was her tool of trade, she rarely afforded it to herself outside of the necessities of her work. Long baths, thick, expensive creams, rare silks and brocades: all these were welcomed, expected of her. But rarely did she let her eyes slip shut and see the things she could not have.
This is a story they tell on Mumbai, Book says, and the table goes quiet except for eating noises.
It was hard to find a well-moneyed planet this far out from the Core.
There are words for what she is, words that are as old and forgotten as Earth-that-was. They are remembered, though, in the houses of the Companions, in the rituals they learn to perfection and the slight smile those of her kind wear like a second skin.
They scrambled at each other’s clothes, knowing they really only had a moment’s time before someone would walk in, or shooting would begin, or Mal would get some crazy idea about saving whatever world they were currently on.