1 Work in Gasoline - The Silent Comedy (Song)
“Doesn’t matter, you’re all dead.” The stranger spat more blood onto the dirt and pushed himself to kneeling. There was a bruise on the side of his face I could see, and at a closer look Franky’s knuckles weren’t the only bloody ones.
Ella tugged at my sleeve and I realized that she’d gotten ahead of me, while I’d taken things in. Her gate was still slow, but it was unhindered, unconcerned with what she was walking into. I shook my head once, and then stepped up beside her, letting her take my arm again.
“You shut up. Shut the hell up.” Franky wheeled on the stranger, trying to loom over him from ten feet away.
“You think I like it?” the stranger bit out. “The whole world’s gone to hell, We’re all just fighting for the scraps."
Franky went for him for what had to be the second time; fist up like he was going to drive it, and the man’s skull, into the dirt. Martin got in his way, talking low. Franky didn’t stop though, until Ella called attention to us.
“What’s all this now? If someone’s dying I want to know about it.” Her voice rang out, cracked and dry but still stronger than any man there on the street. There was a light in her eyes, and her shoulders had straightened.