Carolina's face hardens. Her lips part in a retort her brain hasn't pieced together yet— something like watch your tone or you think I don't realize that? or I'm not enjoying this either— but in the end she falters and says nothing.
Difficult to come by, that silence. It's the pot of gold at the end of South's rainbow. The weakness Leonard Church feasts upon. Silences from Agent Carolina are typically followed by stiff kicks to the groin that'll land you in the ICU. If you're spared that torture, expect a verbal burn to the second or third degree. Silence, the atmospheric tremor as a bomb plummets toward the ground.
Silences like these are of the rarest sort. The sort that ends in nothing.
Shame stirs deep and repressed in Carolina's stomach. She wants to empty it like an old canteen. Toss it aside and forget it entirely. Leave it half caked in dirt. Chin and sternum touch as she shoulders her way into the room.
"Lotta costumes for a lotta people. This stuff is filthy..."
Tawdry coats make up tawdry battalions at either side, three dozen rows thick. They stand in wait. Wait. Wait. With slack arms ready to animate at the slightest disturbance. Somewhere, a moth prattles. She tries not to touch anything.
Carolina squeezes between cotton rows, taking the lead. "Careful."
no subject
Carolina's face hardens. Her lips part in a retort her brain hasn't pieced together yet— something like watch your tone or you think I don't realize that? or I'm not enjoying this either— but in the end she falters and says nothing.
Difficult to come by, that silence. It's the pot of gold at the end of South's rainbow. The weakness Leonard Church feasts upon. Silences from Agent Carolina are typically followed by stiff kicks to the groin that'll land you in the ICU. If you're spared that torture, expect a verbal burn to the second or third degree. Silence, the atmospheric tremor as a bomb plummets toward the ground.
Silences like these are of the rarest sort. The sort that ends in nothing.
Shame stirs deep and repressed in Carolina's stomach. She wants to empty it like an old canteen. Toss it aside and forget it entirely. Leave it half caked in dirt. Chin and sternum touch as she shoulders her way into the room.
"Lotta costumes for a lotta people. This stuff is filthy..."
Tawdry coats make up tawdry battalions at either side, three dozen rows thick. They stand in wait. Wait. Wait. With slack arms ready to animate at the slightest disturbance. Somewhere, a moth prattles. She tries not to touch anything.
Carolina squeezes between cotton rows, taking the lead. "Careful."