Tactile



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    “Mr. Gully is my former employee,” says Finch, fingers splayed over another stack of printouts, Gully’s blank-smiling face lurking in the upper left corner.

    “Oh.” John waits, but Harold doesn’t add anything, doesn’t move except where his fingertips are twitching against the paper. "Forgive me for saying so, Harold, but that seems like the kind of information you’d lead with.”

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    17 Mar 2017

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    Reese tries to tail Finch over and over but never sees his home. Eventually, his imagination starts to run away with him.

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    16 Mar 2017

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    "Harold," John said, "are you asking me to marry you for your money?"
    "Well, Mr. Reese," Harold said, "given how much of it you've spent already, I don't really see how you can complain."

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    22 Feb 2017

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    "The only promise I will make you is that having found you, I will go to almost any lengths you care to name to keep you."

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    13 Feb 2017

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    "You need food, Rocket. Worse than me. A hell of a lot worse than me, and I'm worried about you. We have water, neither of us are hurt, but both of us will die eventually if we don't eat. And I can hunt down one of those," he said, pointing off into the distance at a four-legged ungulate of some kind, grazing on the tough grass.

    "Neither of us have any weapons, genius. You're gonna just run up to it and crack it on the head with a rock?"

    "No," Peter said. "I'm gonna run it down and slit its throat."

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    19 Jun 2016