Fragility – 07

Thursday

Jones bled.

He forced himself to flip onto his back, his legs protesting with another wave of nauseating pain.

He planted his hands in the earthy floor and pulled himself back against the bloodstained table – there was no use in spending energy and processing power on keeping himself level, when bracing himself was relatively easy.

T-shirt. Uniform pants. Most of Jones’ tricks and fixes resided in his lab coat – he didn’t take it off enough to set things up any other way.

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46 – In The Field

October 9th

He had been social once, he was sure of it.

Curt stared into the mirror and required the eighth new shirt in the last twenty minutes.

Easy. It had been easy in the old days. Agreeing to meet up with people to kick a ball around, or watch a movie, or sport, or just have a BBQ and talk shit about work.

He didn’t remember his palms sweating. Continue reading “46 – In The Field”

34 – Blackout

The window exploded.

By all the usual tropes, Stef should have seen everything in slow motion. The torturous bullet time where you were forced to see everything in horrific detail, unable to act.

It wasn’t slow. It was over before she could even begin to process it.

She coughed, and everything hurt.

She fought for her mind to catch up with the situation. She’d been sitting on a seat, eating ice cream. She wasn’t sitting any more, and the pain wasn’t just that of an ice cream headache.

Ryan?

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