Imperial Junke Yard, Friday
Marcus had been having such a good morning. He did the rounds of the junkyard, checked the fences, and unlocked the shed, experiencing an unfamiliar sensation of satisfaction that everything was where it should be.
Done with that, he went to lean on the gatepost, looking out at the rest of the town, feeling strangely mellow. “Maybe this place isn’t so ba--”
Which was precisely when Marcus turned into a raccoon.
Any fondness he’d developed for the island since last weekend disappeared. Grumbling, he struggled free of his clothes and shoulder holster, then sat up on his hind legs, pawing at his face.
He was annoyed and he looked it.
[Briefly expecting one, but please mod the junkyard should you need it.]
Done with that, he went to lean on the gatepost, looking out at the rest of the town, feeling strangely mellow. “Maybe this place isn’t so ba--”
Which was precisely when Marcus turned into a raccoon.
Any fondness he’d developed for the island since last weekend disappeared. Grumbling, he struggled free of his clothes and shoulder holster, then sat up on his hind legs, pawing at his face.
He was annoyed and he looked it.
[Briefly expecting one, but please mod the junkyard should you need it.]