09-14-2014, 01:02 PM
More pity swarmed behind her. Kind pity, but still pity. It burrowed right into her skin, making her feel very small. The guy at the till was still looking at her apologetically, waiting for her to move on, when the American woman's voice piped up. Asha began scraping the coins back up into her palm, heat still warm on her cheeks, and glanced up at the woman, smiling. "Oh, you don't have to..."
Then paused, unsure.
People were never still; they fluctuated moment by moment, in intensity or direction or volume. Those were the little things - irritation, contentment, boredom. Just transient feelings attached to the moment, sensations that tended to assault her relentlessly. Beyond that there were flavours; an inherently violent person, even relaxed, tasted sharp, like blood in the back of the throat. In that way she'd grown used to identifying different presences without looking up at faces. But bigger emotions were universal. Fear. Sadness. Joy. Grief. Asha caught the sense of a weighty shadow, a background darkness that felt like a sinking heart.
She let her pride go, influenced gently by the sense of right thing emanating like a lullaby from the woman. She looked tired, not desperately so, but enough to stoke a little empathy. Or maybe that was the woman's feelings leaking out and touching Asha's own; sometimes she wasn't sure. Her smile flickered a little uncertain, then deepened genuine. "Thanks."
Asha could already tell this one was a soother. Focussing on her blocked out a little of the rest of the coffee shop, quietened all the edges of the world to something quite pleasant so long as she didn't delve too deep into that peripheral sadness. She shuffled a little out the way, making room at the counter, careful to stay a comfortable distance away. "It's cold out, huh."
Then paused, unsure.
People were never still; they fluctuated moment by moment, in intensity or direction or volume. Those were the little things - irritation, contentment, boredom. Just transient feelings attached to the moment, sensations that tended to assault her relentlessly. Beyond that there were flavours; an inherently violent person, even relaxed, tasted sharp, like blood in the back of the throat. In that way she'd grown used to identifying different presences without looking up at faces. But bigger emotions were universal. Fear. Sadness. Joy. Grief. Asha caught the sense of a weighty shadow, a background darkness that felt like a sinking heart.
She let her pride go, influenced gently by the sense of right thing emanating like a lullaby from the woman. She looked tired, not desperately so, but enough to stoke a little empathy. Or maybe that was the woman's feelings leaking out and touching Asha's own; sometimes she wasn't sure. Her smile flickered a little uncertain, then deepened genuine. "Thanks."
Asha could already tell this one was a soother. Focussing on her blocked out a little of the rest of the coffee shop, quietened all the edges of the world to something quite pleasant so long as she didn't delve too deep into that peripheral sadness. She shuffled a little out the way, making room at the counter, careful to stay a comfortable distance away. "It's cold out, huh."