re:mote voices

<$BlogRSDUrl$>

Thursday, June 09, 2005

The young man turned his head. 'I can't believe this is him.'
Jim realised he was talking to the other stranger, who'd suddenly appeared by his side. That worried Jim a little, someone being able to get that close without him noticing. It made him feel old.
'It's him,' the man said. 'You remember me, James?'
Jim turned in his own sweet time, and yes, of course he did. It had been a long time, and the man had aged but only on the outside. The eyes were the key, eyes that looked fine at first but soon revealed themselves to be devoid of genuine warmth, emotion or life. Jim had been cold in his time, no doubt, but this man looked like he'd never been anything but: as if he'd slid out of his mother's womb silent and calm and with bad thoughts already in his head. Jim didn't know his name, but he knew who he was. He was a man Jim had hoped - and come to believe - he would never see again.
He was the Forward-Thinking-Boy.

Blood Of Angels
Michael Marshall

# posted by remotepush @ 7:44 pm

Comments: Post a Comment