Write about: sprinkles.
Had some time to myself this morning while Kat and Max met up with some friends at the park. Managed to get some pictures off my phone and organized, finally, and got around to shaving as well. Also finally.
Was hoping to get a start on catching up with comments too, but I guess that will have to wait for another time.
I approached the car slowly, keeping as much as possible to the shadows cast by the boarded up shops. Avoiding empty beer cans and broken glass, I moved as noiselessly as I could. I didn't think anyone was watching, or even should have been, but I wasn't taking any chances.
Two days had passed since I'd abandoned the vehicle there, though it seemed much longer. The constant pressure of being on the run can play havoc with one's feel for the passing of minutes and hours. And the things it could do to individual seconds? Inhumane.
Aside from the rumble of a drunken snore coming from an alley half a block away, the street was quiet. As though it was holding its breath, waiting for something interesting to happen. I desperately hoped to leave before the exhale.
I surveyed the damage from the nearest patch of darkness I could lurk within, knowing I'd have to cross the final eight or nine feet completely, utterly exposed. It was a pleasant surprise to find all four tires still attached, not to mention the windshield appeared to have remained intact. Was it drivable?
I sure as hell hoped so. Though, to be frank, the sprinkle of bullet holes across the front of the car did not fill me with optimism.