"Well, that's interesting," said Crane. He'd slipped into Nadine's apartment just in time to hear the screaming from the bathroom. "Anything you'd like to share, Harvey?"
"The Batman or the Joker?" He stood and went to the refrigerator, pulling out a carton of milk and sniffing at it. "Have you eaten all of the cereal? That woman is a horrible cook - I wouldn't blame you if you have."
Harvey shook his head. "Him. Me. We're the same. We're different." He grabbed at his face again, scratching at the skin on the bad side. "I can't stop. He won't stop." He was at once matter-of-fact and afraid.
"The Bat?" He shook the box then tasted the contents and spat. "Stale. Good God, what is wrong with her? Don't answer. It's a very long list. Anyhow, I don't follow you, Harvey. You'll have to be a bit clearer."
"Him," Harvey scratched at the bad side of his face again. "Jesus. You're a doctor. Or you were. Don't you know about these sorts of things? Why people--become other people. Why he won't GO AWAY!" A twisted smirk briefly crossed the bad side of his face and when it left, Harvey screamed again (though clearly not at Crane). "Get out or I'll kill you!"
"Oh. "Him." Yes." Crane shrugged. "If you'd like an in-depth answer, I suppose we could have a short talk, provided you stop picking at yourself. It's very distracting."
Reply
"She's dead. He killed her." He breathed hard and he still seemed to be in a daze, almost disoriented.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment