curtains

The next day or something, George came to check on her. Duncan sent him. He was disguised (once more) as a fisher boy, who would never grow up to be a fisher man. Fisher Herman.

“You okay? You seem anxious. What did you see in the crate? Duncan is worried about you.”

“I bet he is.” She clutched her dead teddy tightly, unable to speak for a while. The boy sat silent too.

Finally, after about 10 minutes: “Do you have any sandwiches, Penny?”

“Bread, butter — fix it yourself.”

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Filed under *Second Life, The Straight

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