(no subject)
Steve sat there and worked. Or it was something like work, anyway. There was a bar, and on the bar, he had a soda, a binder, and a pencil. The pencil's eraser was tapping on one of the pages - a picture of a house that looked like it'd been hit by falling rocks.
Maybe because it had been.
But there were marks on the picture. Crosshatching over some of the holes in the roof, for instance. Or windows drawn in where they'd been broken out.
And Steve was staring at it.
"Damn."
And why did he keep feeling like he heard whispers?
Maybe because it had been.
But there were marks on the picture. Crosshatching over some of the holes in the roof, for instance. Or windows drawn in where they'd been broken out.
And Steve was staring at it.
"Damn."
And why did he keep feeling like he heard whispers?