High in a sixteenth story window on the outskirts of Tifton, a feather pillow was being fluffed in the early evening air. So vigorously was it shaken that the delicate cotton caught against the iron rung of the balcony and tore, spilling its contents into the teeming street below
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"What the fuck-" I break off, one hand on his chest to keep myself upright and one corner of my mouth twitching into a grin, "You okay there, Benton?"
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"What the fuck are you doing?" I snort, reaching up to pluck the feather off his eyebrow with a confused sorta grin.
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He was well enough to be up and about, and couldn't bother to wait back at the apartment for Benton.
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