(no subject)

[sai-interloper.livejournal.com]

A man in an expensively cut suit walks to the bulletin board.

Thunk.

He drives a nail through a scrap of paper, steps back to survey his handiwork, and smiles.

Tryin' to make a livin' and doin' the best I can
But when it's time for leavin' I hope you'll understand ...

"That I was born a raaaamblin' man."

Icy eyes dart to the stairwell.

Not a whisper or a puff of smoke to mark his passing.