it's cold in the crow's nest

Time is distance is time.

They say it heals all wounds, and given enough of it I suppose that's true. In the end there's forgiving, or forgetting, or simply not caring anymore. But before any of those destinations, there's a limbo--and no company through it except the vindictive predatory bird trying to convince you that maybe to forgive always means to pass judgment in some measure.

They don't say anything about that bitter stretch: the point in time where the view is both objective and tinged red. Far enough to feel cold, but not far enough to feel safe.

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A reboot of this.