[ maybe this is how the outsider saw things—sees things, he reminds himself—everything burning even brighter than with his void gaze. glancing past the flickers of green and blue, he sees a different light. it's bright, yet somewhat diffused, and utterly unlike the placid shine of the people walking through the figure.
he walks, resisting the urge to blink, and stops on the side of the street, watching. ]
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he walks, resisting the urge to blink, and stops on the side of the street, watching. ]