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milliways_bar2005-10-02 09:17 pm
chalky-rider.livejournal.com) wrote in milliways_bar2005-10-02 09:17 pm
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A boy - early twenties, you'd think, if you notice him long enough to judge it - walks into a bar. You'd think it was the beginning of a joke, only no one follows, just yet. He looks almost lopsided, on his own. As though something's missing.
The bar is a singular place, true enough, and there's plenty to snag the attention; his own is immediately held by the window. He walks across and places his palm flat against it, watching the silent, beautiful destruction of the universe with an expression on his face that's almost... proud.
His fingers leave smears, on the glass.
The bar is a singular place, true enough, and there's plenty to snag the attention; his own is immediately held by the window. He walks across and places his palm flat against it, watching the silent, beautiful destruction of the universe with an expression on his face that's almost... proud.
His fingers leave smears, on the glass.