Sep 2, 2018
@tenthheart
“It is a nice car.”
He’s been watching from above, his face impassive.
At a distance he looks almost intact.
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@tenthheart
“It is a nice car.”
He’s been watching from above, his face impassive.
At a distance he looks almost intact.
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"You hurting?" [Eric]
“I’m always hurting, man.”
He curls into himself, spine popping joint by joint. Walls’s shoulders twitch. A shaky sob escapes him.
"So where would you like me to put the word 'pussilanimous'?" --Eric
He thinks about it, puffing on his joint.
“‘Kay. Can you write small enough to put it on my taint?”
Peter’s grin spreads lopsided.
“First, nobody gonna look there. Second, you gotta touch my nads.”
@tenthheart
“Yeah.”
He slumps boneless over the car, leaving snotty trails of ectoplasm.
“Before I—“
Walls mimes a neck breaking.
“I saw this guy. This fucked-up rotten sumbitch. Couldn’t talk right.”
Dangling from Walsh’s car, his eye rolling up in his head, he hesitates.
“That was you.”
@tenthheart
“You know, they say true immortality comes from your actions.”
It’s amazing how much vitriol he can pack into a warm tone.
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Who said anything?
He didn’t say anything.
Stop doing that, Walsh. You’ll go blind.
@tenthheart
He wasn’t going to say anything. Some things do not bear repeating. Rosten’s abashed little snicker is almost polite. “Cakefucker.” He hides his sneer--what little is visible behind his mask--with a hand.
@tenthheart Well.” He sucked his cigarette, whistling. “Ya lost what ya lost. Sure, the kids got the worst of it--” Behind his smooth white mask his eyes glittered. “You were young.”