casbutt-in-camelot
The man walked through the chaos with the air of someone wandering through their own home; at ease, comfortable, completely unperturbed with the fight that erupted everywhere. He wasn't bothered about the occasional hit to the shoulder or the face, the blood that poured down his face, trickled from his mouth, wasn't any concern of his; this body was rented- he didn't mind returning it a little damaged.
The shop that was nestled in the very centre of the city was normal enough, until you went inside. Then you see the toadstools it sold- big and small, every shape and size, poisonous and safe. No one knew why it was there or what it was there for- but everyone who entered the shop couldn't remember it when they left.
It was so quiet. No one was talking. No words, no arguments- I would rather everyone was screaming rather than this. Then, he looked up. Smiled. Let me know it was okay.
"You don't need to look so worried"
All I did was cry.
writing since 2014 · 6 entries · 6 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Sam showed up.
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the words Sam reaches for
lookingsethfivetableeyesnowrathersmiledshoplightforwarddannyfacegroupregalintimidating