Something of that fresh edge catches enough to cut him free of his forward lean. He flourishes his free hand open as he settles back into an uncharacteristic slouch, et voila, dry at his own expense.
“I am now.” Not by choice.
He still has the paper; it flutters with the sheer force of world-weariness in his sigh.
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Date: 2021-03-20 10:43 pm (UTC)“I am now.” Not by choice.
He still has the paper; it flutters with the sheer force of world-weariness in his sigh.