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Tag Archives: the blue-eyed man
Squealing brakes. The unmistakable sound of steel on steel on glass on pavement. That was the thing about McGough — you didn’t really need an alarm clock. She rolled over in bed to find his side empty again, and got … Continue reading
“It’s called cortical blindness, Ms. Jones.” The voice sounded tinny. “It is often temporary–” Relief washed over her, but then he kept talking. “–but in your case, considering how your cranial trauma results from not only from the baseball bat, … Continue reading
“Now,” she said, grinning, moving towards her prey, reaching for him with her actual fists. “I don’t got fucking time to be delicate, so I’ma ask you some questions, n’I’m only gonna ask once. Get me?” The faintly gurgled response … Continue reading
Some days were harder than others. She woke at first light, sometimes to find he’d already been awake long enough to set fire to the towels in the bathroom, and instead of alerting her, he dropped them in the tub … Continue reading