"You're out of bacon," she said blandly as he passed, not looking up from A Letter of Mary, the next book in her tedium-driven headlong rush through his shelves.
His half-empty shelves. On his half-empty walls. The main room of the gallary had a stripped look about it, inconspicuous paintings and sculptures missing from every corner. And the jukebox was gone.
His voice didn't sound quite the same. The cadence, pronunciation, everything else was exactly as she'd grown accustomed to, but the pitch and timbre....
"I didn't ask why you moved them, I asked where. Though if you've gone and 'confiscated' them, I highly doubt you'll tell me, so there's nothing for it but to go and look for them myself."
V did just that, opening doors and looking inside rooms with a dogged patience that spoke of a desperate grasping at distraction.
Comments 62
His half-empty shelves. On his half-empty walls. The main room of the gallary had a stripped look about it, inconspicuous paintings and sculptures missing from every corner. And the jukebox was gone.
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"Where did you put them?"
His voice didn't sound quite the same. The cadence, pronunciation, everything else was exactly as she'd grown accustomed to, but the pitch and timbre....
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"I confiscated them in the name of the Finger."
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V did just that, opening doors and looking inside rooms with a dogged patience that spoke of a desperate grasping at distraction.
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