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Written for HT100 Challenge #84: Don't Fear the Reaper
"That don't mean dick."
Jesus, could it be that easy?
*Is* it that easy?!...
As a matter of fact, it does seem so, To-by. As easy as breathing, moving around, talking meaningless shit and playing chess all day long. Nothing's fundamentally different, nothing's changed.
Just the slightest shift in energy, a soft jitter in the way he moves, an apparent nervous tone in his voice.
A dark shadow - clouding his eyes for a small second.
Or...maybe it was always there, and you didn't care to see it.
Just like you didn't care to see *a lot* of things in your life. The sort of things you carelessly (carefully?) avoid 'til they catch up with you and smack you in the face, or sprawl all over your windshield...
Well, this particular shit has definitely hit the fan *now*.
What are you gonna do?
What you always do. Cupcake.
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