Friday, February 20, 2015

Letters from the Dead pt. 18

Back at the school I spend my afternoon doing paperwork in the library with Sebastian.

He looks like hell.

His skin is gray.
His hair is oily. 
He smells like an ashtray, and his eyes are bloodshot.

He just sits there, looking at his hands. 

I ask him if he got another letter.
He nods in response. 

Without me asking he reaches into his pocket, tossing the offending piece of paper onto the table. 


I pick it up, scanning the sloppy handwriting.

No comments:

Post a Comment