[ The wait's even longer this time around, William reading and rereading the words on his shitty phone. In this place scrubbed clean of language. He remembers the little book he gave Dolores, trying not to smear the ink or break the binding as he wrote out the inscription. He hasn't seen her in the shadows—wonders why that is, if it means he doesn't love her enough.
Is she thinking about him? Does she think about him? ]
That was you. The other world, whatever we're calling it. You're that person. Maybe you fucked things up here, but you made him happy somewhere. That's not nothing. It's a lot.
one small breakdown later...
Is she thinking about him? Does she think about him? ]
That was you. The other world, whatever we're calling it. You're that person. Maybe you fucked things up here, but you made him happy somewhere. That's not nothing. It's a lot.
Is that what scared you? Happiness?