Tear A Path 217 Start Over Again

While they were still parked she looked like nothing more than a gaudy figure head, only when they could embark would Gwen be able to show the full capabilities given to her by Grendolyn.

"Hey..." Gwen spoke first.

"Hey." Thirteen replied, climbing up onto the platform to lean on her body as she took out a book and started reading.

"So you came here just to read again?" Her voice boomed.

"Yes."

"Why don't you just go inside?" Gwen asked.

Thirteen stopped her reading for awhile, her hand left her book and moved to Gwen's body. With a nonchalance she answered, "better shade." Before going back to her book.

Hearing this Gwen had half a mind to throw her out and fold herself back in. In the end she just sighed and ignored the little girl as she herself enjoyed the sun.

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Clink! Clink!

In the newly made kitchen, a single loomed over the fresh counter. The air yet to be permeated by the aromas of delicacies to be formed in that very spot.

And their creator, a decrepit old man who at this point was struggling just holding a small frying pan. Small marble beads rolled lazily on top of the pan, rolling back and forth with the slightest s.h.i.+ft of his tail.

Sweat poured out like bullets from his pores, making that characteristic clinking sound as it fell onto the counter top.

While the tip of his tail was steadily controlling the pan, the rest of it was shaking violently from the strain. It looked simple, but what he was doing was the equivalent of a human attempting the very same action using their toes.

In an instant, the boundaries between triumph and failure was crossed, leaving him a wet heap as the beads tumbled their way through the kitchen floor. Their sonorous clacking, mocking him, taunting him for his inability to do the very thing he loved the most.

In a fit, he felt the pain of what he once owned. It'd healed completely, the stub barely holding scabs that now covered the remnants of his tattered limbs. But it wasn't his body that felt the surge of agony, but his mind which tormented him.

With a slight breath he pushed himself of the floor, his elbows propped against the counter, using those stumps as leverage to hold himself up. The tail coiled itself around the handle of a jug, gingerly pulling it above his head which he now held above a basin and gently tilted it to let the water wash over him.

Like before, the thing struggled and the jug wavered in the air, the cascading water ran down his back and around his arms. And in a moment of negligence, his arms collapsed from the slippery surface and he found himself descending uncontrollably, reaching out for the edge to break his fall, only to again be prodded by his current reality.

His body sank down to the ground, a flash of pain and rus.h.i.+ng heat now resided on his forehead as half of his vision turned crimson. Lying there in the cold of his own failures, contented by the sight of the white ceiling.

It calmed him, the fact that it was okay to just lay there and wait. Why not? he thought to himself. He'd spent most of his life struggling and achieving something with his own two hands, and maybe this was the time to fold and call it a day.

In that instance he could only raise his head and pick himself up. A chuckle escaped his lips as he thought how he'd rather die than call for someone to help him from the soggy mess he was right now. Nah, the thought of wasting away as an old man nearly scared the life out of him just thinking about it.

His tail waved around, fumbling on the floor for those marbles as he gathered the pan handle into his mouth with what was left of his arms. His tail pushed the marbles on before sliding under his chest to help push himself back up. It took a while but finally he found himself hanging on the edge of the counter by his armpits.

It wasn't the end, he just needed to start over again.