#patty001

[ezra-b-a]

“Ten letters across. Oprah Winfrey Network show about a family farm. Last letter’s an ‘R’.” Ezra reads out to anyone who’s listening, pen tapping against the crossword book.

[ernest-graves]

this vehicle is reversing | g + p

@pvttycake

His mind felt heavy and busy. Similar to when he was planning a new book: nothing but vague thoughts, too many of them, vying for his attention. Only it felt heavier. Grasping at dreams, at thoughts, so busy and loud his thoughts have turned to static. He’d attempted to write it down, pick out things from the mist. He’d quickly dismissed them -- he wasn’t much into fantasy, it seemed odd for him to suddenly fixate on a giant, a hatchet or axe-wielding one at that. He gave up on the thoughts, let them fade away from mind even if the heavy feeling right behind his eyes never felt.

He watched the woman idly, too distant to be bothered about keeping himself subtle. There was something calming, reassuring, seeing a woman go about her ritual. ( He was internally flinching at the fact she was going for a dry shave, but he can appreciate the determination for smooth legs despite the circumstances. ) Vanity was never a bad thing is Graves’eyes: simply a sign of fortune, the fortune to have time, the fortune to care. Delilah did not appreciate her father’s distance. She was playing with some teddy bear Wes and Ayden had picked out with her when they were supposed to be simply babysitting her. Delilah whacked the fuzzy arm against his arm. Occasionally he looked at her and gently tickled her nose with the bear’s ribbon bowtie.

Graves lost track of time; unused to these hazy unfocused days. He idly notes the ear splitting scream. A girl-ish thing that sounds as though it’s ripping the skin from her throat. Delilah wails in imitation. When one starts ... Graves, unmoved, looks down the length of the terminal. Down to where a large noise hits the walls. He’s not surprised when he sees something breaking it’s way in. Not surprised when he sees the dead men walking, teeth gnashing. Like he knew it was coming, was waiting on it.

That is until something clicks. The fuzz in his brain is violently shaken out of him. “Bloody hell ...” he looks over to the woman, someone having the correct reaction. Not sitting on their arse like he is. Not suddenly aware of the fact this has happened before. He spaces out; Delilah cries; her cries mean nothing. A feeling of deja vu settles over him ... Graves jumps up, still in a daze, “What the fuck?” he calls out to the woman, not sure what he’s expecting her reaction to be, “What the fuck!”