From a1fd2a2c96b31df39980a36681f3728b726855e9 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Madison Scott-Clary Date: Sat, 12 Feb 2022 21:30:16 -0800 Subject: [PATCH] update from sparkleup --- writing/post-self/neviim/ioan/010.html | 2 +- 1 file changed, 1 insertion(+), 1 deletion(-) diff --git a/writing/post-self/neviim/ioan/010.html b/writing/post-self/neviim/ioan/010.html index db6fc28ac..ba83478ca 100644 --- a/writing/post-self/neviim/ioan/010.html +++ b/writing/post-self/neviim/ioan/010.html @@ -71,7 +71,7 @@

“Jesus.” Douglas’s whisper broke the long silence that followed. “And you’re afraid that’s what would happen on Artemis?”

“Not exactly that,” the skunk said. “But when presented with the fragility of eternity once more, I cannot imagine that I would remain sane. That any of us would.”

“This is what we fear,” May said.

-

“With Time?” Debarre asked. The weasel sounded anxious. Ioan remembered him explaining years ago that he’d gotten a brief glimpse inside the mind of the lost when he’d helped pull Michelle back, so the anxiety certainly had basis in reality.

+

“With Time? I saw through your eyes,” Debarre said, so quiet as to be almost a whisper. End Waking rested a paw on his knee. “I was so happy to see you, and so terrified to be there. Two and a half minutes was enough for a lifetime.”

“Or memory?” Douglas added.

She nodded, tugging Ioan’s arm tighter around her middle. “A madness born of eternities. Memory upon memory upon memory. Our memories, our whole subconscious, lie too close to the surface, and that barrier between the conscious and subconscious cannot bear the weight of an eternity, and so the cracks widen.”

“Do you think that’s what happened with Death Itself and I Do Not Know? To Michelle?” Ioan asked.