Supper's nearly over by the time Mordred gets home, after the latest crackplot has worn off and he's finally gotten done whatever he was out doing. He elbows the front door open and slips inside, all windblown and lively. "Hi."
"Because I'm a sucker for that little snuffly thing they do," cheerfully. "Opportunist little bastards. They know you won't spoil them. --Right, Clar?"
Clar turns, strides to the table and sweeps her packet of cigarettes off the corner of it. "You," she says to Mordred, "Are a dumbass. Be more careful."
Message delivered, she sweeps out and slams the back door behind her.
Reply
"Sorry. Lost track of the time."
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Message delivered, she sweeps out and slams the back door behind her.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment