[He thinks about a time he was laying Dylan's body on his bed, looking down at him mournfully. But this didn't happen, it couldn't have, or these squirming things wouldn't be under his palm.
He pulls back his hand, tucks it closer to himself so he stops... well... thinking about it.]
I remember things going differently. Just a little. They didn't go well then, either.
Gaheris Rhade - Post a comment