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nancy wheeler. (
gunshooting
) wrote
in
pharmacy
2024-03-17 11:25 pm (UTC)
mid-month, wee hours.
[ Abrupt, Nancy's words like a hand under blankets, clutching at his elbow. ]
Hi, it's me.
[ A passing attempt at normalcy, whatever that looks like after the Fog, after days and days in these caves where: ]
I can hear them in my head. Not like when you all talk to each other, it's—
I can feel them. Everyone.
[
Everyone.
]
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mid-month, wee hours.
Hi, it's me.
[ A passing attempt at normalcy, whatever that looks like after the Fog, after days and days in these caves where: ]
I can hear them in my head. Not like when you all talk to each other, it's—
I can feel them. Everyone.
[ Everyone. ]