From 027a398263cfc96bf15844a2723f2b62065b5fac Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Madison Scott-Clary Date: Fri, 13 May 2022 18:45:15 -0700 Subject: [PATCH] update from sparkleup --- writing/post-self/neviim/local/codrin/012.html | 4 ++-- writing/post-self/neviim/remote/tycho/005.html | 4 ++-- 2 files changed, 4 insertions(+), 4 deletions(-) diff --git a/writing/post-self/neviim/local/codrin/012.html b/writing/post-self/neviim/local/codrin/012.html index f5b54dff9..cdea81666 100644 --- a/writing/post-self/neviim/local/codrin/012.html +++ b/writing/post-self/neviim/local/codrin/012.html @@ -79,7 +79,7 @@

Ey shook eir head.

“There is no forgetting, my dear. You bear it within you.”

“All the same, I could–“

-

The fox’s laugh surprised him. It was breathy, hyperventilating, but sounded almost relieved. “No, Codrin. You do not need to. The poem continues: — As One within a Swoon — Goes safely — where an open eye — Would drop Him — Bone by Bone —“

+

The fox’s laugh surprised em. It was breathy, hyperventilating, but sounded almost relieved. “No, Codrin. You do not need to. The poem continues: — As One within a Swoon — Goes safely — where an open eye — Would drop Him — Bone by Bone —“

Ey was too anxious to puzzle out the opacity of the language. “I’m going to need some help disentangling that, Dear.”

“There are very few times that memory can hope to be selective. When one is drunk, perhaps. Drunk on wine, drunk on love, drunk on pain. Perhaps when one is drunk on a life lived too long, as I am. It is the end of an era, and perhaps we are all becoming inebriated by too long a life. Do not forget it, Codrin. Do not do as I have done. It is stupid, is it not? Look at me. I am in all ways drunk on time.”

Codrin smiled cautiously.

@@ -107,7 +107,7 @@

Codrin leaned in to kiss them on the cheek, still working on catching eir breath. “Yes. Definitely hash browns.”