what did the breeze whisper, was is it sweet or did he just hear a howl ? The howl so lonely enough to ache his heart enough to make him loose the grip he once fought. But fanthom won't care. he can't care . He knew Turning around will bring him nothing but cost.
soaking the pot deep enough was it, deeper got it, the weight it brought gave him sense of thrill he long forgot. fanthom had to make a living . Every day his job was to soak the collected stones in exchange of few coins and one meal a day . with the savings he made every day he disconnected with "The outside world".
After working for the entire day fanthom returns to his cottage . He lays in the cold floor and thinks about the time. How great of a differences can time actually make ? sometimes we just heal and other times we completely worn our heart out by hope . Hope is a dangerous thing . when we finely achieve something we only hoped for we loose our rationality .
We learn to blind our self and completely forget how it actually came to us. we forget about its shortcoming. Was it even designed for us. we ignore our own voice and suffer. fanthom remembers the first time he found that connection the joy it brought and the void it caused he remind himself everything, fanthom drifts to slumber without confronting his heart . sometimes it was just easier to fill his void when he left himself burning .
Another day followed rather quiet fanthom felt something was different . The sense of something new was thrilling but even without opening his eyes he knew something wasn't right. Fanthom couldn't face anything right now . He was tired his body ached. Hiding in his arms fanthom drifted in a sleep once again .