That Left Unspoken
His head was tilted to the side as he stared vacantly out the window and towards the sea. The gritty glass tarnished any sunlight that burst through, smeared with dusty, Windex crusted grime. From the view of the doorway, the dying day's lackluster glow fell precisely over Cloud's glassy eyes, allowing a sharp white glare to blossom across them.
It was difficult to comprehend that someone who seemed so strong could be reduced to so little.
The mashed peaches sloshed within their bent up, plastic container as Tifa stepped inside, approaching the stagnant man in his wheelchair. She purposely stepped on the fourth floorboard to alert Cloud of her presence. It groaned like a wounded whale.
He didn't respond with so much as a startled blink.
Tifa sighed wearily, thrust aside and condemned. Tonight would not be a good night.
"Hope you're hungry for peaches, bud, 'cause that's tonight's menu," she said with a hint of dry amusement as she set the ja