[Mothers and mother-like figures are not a happy subject for the Piemaker, who still feels the ache of his own mother's absence. He remembers being in Esther's exact place where she is in the present moment, standing in a kitchen at ten watching his mother bake pies. He remembers the sudden way she'd collapsed on the kitchen floor, the color leaving her face as the brain aneurysm killer her before she'd even had time to think something was wrong.
He remembers the color coming back to her face as he reached out and touched...
It was still new to him at the time. He hadn't known the rules, hadn't thought to question why he'd been given that gift. It wasn't within the Piemaker to question the rules, in case he might be told he'd broken them and be punished for him.
Either way, the facts were these; his mother was dead. He had reached out and touched her. And suddenly she was alive again. Just like that.
The Piemaker in the present time remains fixated on the past...just not his past. An equally fixed expression stares distantly at Esther as he attempts to pull his thoughts together to make a coherent response]
[spam] [cw: nonviolent death]
He remembers the color coming back to her face as he reached out and touched...
It was still new to him at the time. He hadn't known the rules, hadn't thought to question why he'd been given that gift. It wasn't within the Piemaker to question the rules, in case he might be told he'd broken them and be punished for him.
Either way, the facts were these; his mother was dead. He had reached out and touched her. And suddenly she was alive again. Just like that.
The Piemaker in the present time remains fixated on the past...just not his past. An equally fixed expression stares distantly at Esther as he attempts to pull his thoughts together to make a coherent response]
...
Suddenly...not as well as I was.