iarouhi
“I have done it," she says.
At first I do not understand.
But then I see the tomb, and the marks she has made on the stone.
A C H I L L E S , it reads.
And beside it, P A T R O C L U S .
"Go," she says. "He waits for you."
call me Tir!
❧ she/her.
❧ advanced lit – novella.
❧ lazy world builder.
❧ character-driven queer bipoc stories.
❧ etc. etc.
In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk.
Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun.
— tsoa, madeline miller.
Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun.
— tsoa, madeline miller.
