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Not for the first time, I try to seek refuge in anger.
When you look into her eyes, you’ll realize you’ve been seen this whole time.
“Your life is in your hands. Don’t drop it.”
Weird fellow, really. Always with the innuendos. Can’t tell if he’s trying to filch my purse or slag me.”
What is there to lose but life?
“Oh shit. Incoming cretin.”
Certainly not lacking in drama, this one. You’d think his cell bed was a fainting couch.
He didn’t say much else that night. Neither did I. His eye was on the past and all he’d seen. Mine was on the future and all we yet might.
