【生肉搬运】鸟雀Passerine 第五章(3)
“My baby,” she’d cried, “my little fighter. Be brave, Tommy, be strong.”
But Tommy was so still in his mother’s arms.
Philza had stood at her bedside, watching her coo and cry at a baby that did not stir. He had lived a million lives, and all its miseries combined could not compare to the pain of being a mourner at his son’s birth-bed. And as the minutes churned on, heedless of the growing abyss inside his chest, he found that he could not even cry. It was a sadness too big for tears, a grief too infinite to measure.
And when his wife had offered the baby to him, to give him his chance at saying goodbye despite her own despair, Philza did something that he would never forgive himself for. He hesitated.
He looked at the silent bundle in her arms, dead before he could even live, and felt the fracture in his heart grow. This was the fate of humanity, eventually. It did not matter if Tommy lived to the next year, the next decade or the next breath, he would still one day die. Bitter and numb and hateful of the world, Philza wondered if it were better that Tommy died now, before Phil could grow to love him more. People mourned the beauty of a wilting rose, but an unblooming bud would give a quieter heartache.
But Tommy was so still in his mother’s arms.
Philza had stood at her bedside, watching her coo and cry at a baby that did not stir. He had lived a million lives, and all its miseries combined could not compare to the pain of being a mourner at his son’s birth-bed. And as the minutes churned on, heedless of the growing abyss inside his chest, he found that he could not even cry. It was a sadness too big for tears, a grief too infinite to measure.
And when his wife had offered the baby to him, to give him his chance at saying goodbye despite her own despair, Philza did something that he would never forgive himself for. He hesitated.
He looked at the silent bundle in her arms, dead before he could even live, and felt the fracture in his heart grow. This was the fate of humanity, eventually. It did not matter if Tommy lived to the next year, the next decade or the next breath, he would still one day die. Bitter and numb and hateful of the world, Philza wondered if it were better that Tommy died now, before Phil could grow to love him more. People mourned the beauty of a wilting rose, but an unblooming bud would give a quieter heartache.
第五摄香肉
