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slackerspice
Aug. 30th, 2011 11:01 pm (UTC)
46 - drown
clanoftheswords


The bullet holes had been repaired, of course. But if he looked carefully enough, he could see the welder's marks. Not a bad job, just not good enough.

He slid a hand over the new panel and remembered.

So easy, so sure everything would pan out the way it didn't. Blood dissolving in the water, the last obstacle to his plans (Margo his, the Bastards silenced for good, the world at his feet) gone, not seeing the hundreds more that sprung up in its place.

The metal went cold. Farley turned and walked away, the past fading with the tide.

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