The streets past the edge of the park, Saturday, early afternoon
Eliot was wandering. It was most of what he did, these days. He'd found a bit of jerky in his pocket and nibbled on it, wondering idly where he might have gotten it from.
His head was almost pleasantly empty. The town looked like it always did, and the new people had faded back out of his memory again. He had a bit of food, and the two-by-four with a pair of rusty nails in the end of it was a nice heavy weight under his poncho.
It was a normal day.
[set before the meeting in the village square. For thems in the know.]
His head was almost pleasantly empty. The town looked like it always did, and the new people had faded back out of his memory again. He had a bit of food, and the two-by-four with a pair of rusty nails in the end of it was a nice heavy weight under his poncho.
It was a normal day.
[set before the meeting in the village square. For thems in the know.]