#abel.thread

it’s interesting to see the panic in each person’s eyes as they walk, jog, briskly panic past him and away from the stage. he would have imagined a harsher reaction (perhaps even a violent one) to losing something so vital, but the air smells more like confusion than anything else. he swivels on the balls of his feet, hands shoved into his back pockets as he begins to tread along with the crowd. he doesn’t get more than a few paces forward when he’s tripping over someone— he catches himself with a steadied stance and grips the arm that kept them both from meeting pavement. “watch where you’re going, huh?”