A/N: Who owns Trigun? Not me.
Bonus points if you know who Vash is talking about. Super internet chocolate if you know the book he's reading.
"Inspiration never swept him away..." Vash closed the book in his lap, looking up towards the sky.
Things had settled down; It had all been taken care of. Now that there was peace, and it had gotten around (courtesy of Millie and Merrill) that he had not destroyed or killed anyone on purpose, most of the hatred towards him had eased. The town he was in- It was nice and peaceful- He could finally... relax.
The people in this town were good, for the most part. It was a big town, and it was one of the few he had ever resided in that had a library. With the large selection this library had, it wasn't unusual for acquaintances or people he talked with to recommend a book. He found he liked reading better in solitude, and often traveled out of the village for a half-day or so to read on the ledge overlooking the town, or just think, and relish the times he could relax alone.
That previous line from the text was still floating around in his head. "Inspiration never swept him away..."
"But then..." Vash muttered, allowing himself to fall back on the dusty ground and stare at the blue dotted with white, clouds lazily floating in the atmosphere.
"...Wouldn't he be very dry? Wouldn't his poems have less meaning? Isn't inspiration what comes from the heart?"
He was leaning his head back mindlessly, starting to get drowsy from the warmth seeping in through his coat.
"Wouldn't that make him less honest, too?"