She had seen a man’s head steal out for a moment and draw the curtains a little closer. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees. Once a thriving town before the Pestilence, most of the buildings and the piers had been destroyed or burned. Jeremiah Jackson, and Mr. I cannot tell you much about it, but my bad times are over for the present. You’re going to live under the cat’s foot.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 17-09-2024 09:12:09
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