barotte
Glistening in the skeleton's hand was the ruby, speckled in a thin layer of thousand-year-old dirt and spiders and whatever else have you. Hugh lifted it up with his hand and a skeleton picked it up
... and then Amy started noticing it everywhere: in restaurants, on trains, in her work, at school, on the policemen and the charity shop workers, on the people passing by.
It was a pattern. A pattern on everybody showing that they didn't know what the FUCK was going on.
It has been years. I think. Definitely years. Years and years and years and the clock still ticks. It ticks and it ticks and it ticks. But then one day it won't. I hope it won't today. I hope it never ticks again. I hope it all stops...
Tick
I know exactly what I'm doing, I went to school for this. Well, when I say "school" I mean I learned from the best. Believe me on that one. Don't even bother questioning it. The gun's gone off in my hand, missed his head.
Maybe I was aiming for the hat after all?
It's dripping down his face. Bloody raining down. If this were a film then it would mean that Joey's lying to me. But it's not a film.
Then again, these things become cliched for a reason... they're usually true. He says he doesn't know where the girl is. The sweat is dripping down his face.
Weaving in and out on rollerskates, between cars and lampposts, Julie never dreamed she'd ever be using this skill for any practical, exciting reason. She clutched the bag of money in her hand, keeping the other for balance, and sped on.