Moments; singular, siphoned, like grains of sand which fall restlessly, and build without limits...growing with increasing momentum, each step, beat, a steady staccato , marking down the minutes until the cold inevitability of the ...end ...death.
M...
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The place looks more like a haunted house than a fucking residence for a normal human being. But then, when has Walker ever been a normal human being? Everything, yes, everything in me rebels to be standing here, on his front steps with my proverbial hat in hand like some pathetic loser, or beggar. I'm just about to call the entire farce off when the door swings open, and there he stands, in all of his six foot six, glory. Dark, shaggy hair, hanging (just as I remember) in his eyes, eyes which are the color of a storm tossed sea, not quite dark blue, not quite gray, somewhere in between the two. His lanky frame is by no means thin, but lean, and tightly corded with taut sinew and muscles, how the hell he gets those muscles is beyond me. Hell, just like Garrett has a "keep track of Annora" superpower, maybe Walker's superpower is total buffness. What the fuck am I saying? God, my brain must be corroding faster than I thought. "Annora, my dear," Walker's voice is smoother than sun warmed molasses and the look in his eyes, well, let's just say it's pretty smooth too. Okay. What the hell does he want? "Walker," I say curtly, watching a small frown cross his face for the first time since he opened the door to me. "Well, are we going to stand on my doorstep all day...give the neighbors a show? Or do you want to come in, my dear?" "First, don't call me dear, asshat. Second, what fucking neighbors? You live in the middle of fucking nowhere, Walker, the only neighbors you have are dead." Yup, Walker lived smack dab next to (hell part of his house could be built on it) one of the largest graveyards in the county. "Oh the dead are a curious bunch, or didn't you know, Annora, dear." And there with the "dear" again. I was fast losing my patience—strike that—I'd left my patience back in my freaking car. "Walker, Walker, Walker, you realize you're a bit crazy, right?" Oh, good going Annora, insult the guy who might give you your life saving pills. I'm startled when he lets out a large guffaw, so large in fact that he doubles over, clenching his stomach. "And you, my dear..." he finally says once he's gotten himself back under control, "...are exactly as I remember. And yes, crazy is my middle name. But then, aren't we all..." he winks, "...the lot of us, just a little bit crazy." He chuckles then, "...some" and he gives me a pointed look, "...more so than others." Well, he's got me there. There's no way I can deny being a couple of marbles short. I'm here, aren't I? Definitely counts as crazy. "Okay, okay, let me into this monstrosity you call a house, then." Walker sweeps his arm out and bows low, a courtly gesture, his eyes are filled with mirth. "Oh do come in fair maiden. Please, be welcome, and enjoy the hospitality of my humble little abode." Humble little abode? More like haunted mansion from hell, but shit, he can call it whatever the fuck he wants as long as he gives me my damn pills.
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