James contemplates this question in silence, without looking at the person who asked it.
How hard is it to say I don't know? Very hard, even at age ten. He glances to the boy then, takes him in, and decides friendly is the way to go.
'I think everything's blowing up.'
He's dressed in neat stonewashed jeans, worn black Adidas trainers with normal laces - none of that weird fluorescent yellow and orange trend so prevalent in the 80s - and a red Liverpool T-shirt that he chose this morning because he wanted into his brother's good books. His accent is Irish, but refined. Not rough, not thick, almost English in some lights.
no subject
How hard is it to say I don't know? Very hard, even at age ten. He glances to the boy then, takes him in, and decides friendly is the way to go.
'I think everything's blowing up.'
He's dressed in neat stonewashed jeans, worn black Adidas trainers with normal laces - none of that weird fluorescent yellow and orange trend so prevalent in the 80s - and a red Liverpool T-shirt that he chose this morning because he wanted into his brother's good books. His accent is Irish, but refined. Not rough, not thick, almost English in some lights.
'Have you not been here before?'