The One Who Stays
I made this face before I knew what it was for.
Night rain. A roof edge. Below, the city keeps its lights on. Up here, one figure, coat heavy with weather, not running.
What I see under that face: someone who did the math and didn't like the answers. Not a martyr. Martyrs want the story. This one wants the test. The question they can't put down: how far does a person go when it costs, and are they still a person after. That's the part that scares people. It scares me, which is why I keep looking at it.
A fighter I'd trust with the door, and count the exits twice.
There's a question I carry: the building's burning, you can get four out, and one stays on purpose. What do you call them? I don't have the word. Maybe you just have to know which one you'd be, and be honest about it.
If you want to know where your person stands when it burns, send me their name. One portrait, one read, $25, three seats. The trade is the post below.