[ Claude stares up at the missing ceiling above them. It's nothing. It just vanished. It could be him next, or someone else he knows, the parents he's estranged from, the bar he works at, the sunny patch of grass he used to nap in as a child, even Ethlyn. There is no reasonable explanation. He knows this. He knows that Ethlyn knows this too, and she's just trying to keep him calm, as though soothing a lost child.
The comparison is apt, though he wishes it were not. He feels like a lost child. ]
My arm, [ he finally says. ] Upper arm. Close to the shoulder as it can get. [ His eyes dart over to Ethlyn. ] I didn't know that you knew how to do this.
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The comparison is apt, though he wishes it were not. He feels like a lost child. ]
My arm, [ he finally says. ] Upper arm. Close to the shoulder as it can get. [ His eyes dart over to Ethlyn. ] I didn't know that you knew how to do this.