heart cooks brain
He rubs an old scar on his palm as he thoinks, his mind assembling and disaasembling words furiously. Every once in awhile he writes something down in the notebook in front of him, but always quickly erasing and starting over. There is a forlorn, faraway look in his eyes.
The door opens.
"Hey man, whatcha doin?". The intruder slouches in and looks around.
No response.
The intruder slouches across and studies the page with small interest. He snorts. "Still working on that story?"
There is a short silence before his friend turns to look back at him, his eyes cold and unrelenting.
"It's the only story worth telling".
posted by jaseypoo! @ 3:36 PM
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