‘ if you’re possessed, we’re not taking you home. ’
Adam looks down at his shirt, dirty and roughed up from the night’s events just like him. Some kind of viscera and possibly his own blood dot the striped fabric of his polo, obnoxiously bright in the eerie darkness of the car. Night turned into morning so long ago, he realizes as the sun begins to peek between the clouds and exhaustion overwhelms him. Adam takes a mental inventory of his bodily autonomy, of his homicidal tendencies and finds everything as it should be. “Pash, you’d crush me with one blow,” he says like a man resigned to whichever fate she decides for him. He puts an excessively warm hand on her shoulder. “Could you just take us home?”
@parapsyched : SHANE MADEJ : accepting