【自留】Fallen From Grace by V(8)

I look straight ahead. There's nothing but the LED-lit shelves layered with soft drinks and meat locked in plastic. Think of the golden flowers, Chara. Think of Mt. Ebott, Chara. It's not all bad. It's not all bad. The words circle my mind for the hours I'm left, until they seem to fizzle out into white noise, meaningless noise. There's a violent tap on my shoulder.
"Come on." My dad says. "Time to go." I wrench myself from the seat, almost having to peel my skin away, as we start walking back.