There's no hope on your own.
This is what is supposed to happen: you sit and you wait
and while you sit and you wait, it escapes. Its a shade, the colour of the space behind.
Stay thin or you'll see the devil.
Time stretches, sketches and promises become irrelevant.
It meanders through the air towards you; fast enough
to realise what is happening, too slow, too relaxing to ignore. Jacob has heard stories of fingers bitten to the bone, eyes that never leave you.
This city destroyed his brother.
This....isnt the way it is supposed to happen.