Alex MacIntyre - Stoicheion OC - Whereverwaysversefellows
He moves--
--quick, too quick--
--like a flickering flame,
quick darts, sharp turns of his head, fingers that flash like a flame in wind. Lithe, light, dressed in a white shirt and jeans and a pair of boots, he inspects the area near the door.
Then the tables.
Then the bar.
Almost too fast to see until he's--
--back at the door.
"...all right. Who's playing funny."
It's not really a question.
"Rich?"
--quick, too quick--
--like a flickering flame,
quick darts, sharp turns of his head, fingers that flash like a flame in wind. Lithe, light, dressed in a white shirt and jeans and a pair of boots, he inspects the area near the door.
Then the tables.
Then the bar.
Almost too fast to see until he's--
--back at the door.
"...all right. Who's playing funny."
It's not really a question.
"Rich?"