Jul 17, 2020
the woman and the gangly man who cross town towards the dilapidated manor stick out like a sore thumb, glittering like the crystals that the jeweler that accompanies the nomad cart.
they are ragged like those who come in always are, but alas, the feeling of deja vu and dread in his chest at the sight of them is unexpected. the man makes him feel afraid even as he bites his thumb and sets his office up for a visitor.
it’s barely an office. the windows are nailed together and the door has been torn from the hinges, but it is a room where he can do business with a proper desk.
“ -- you didn’t come in on the stagecoach. ”
@graveshot
