Feb. 9th, 2012

garnigal: (Default)
The nights were long.

Eyes strained against dark shadows, searching for the movement that warned there was something waiting for its moment to catch you unaware. Ears filtering the sounds of normal life away, straining for that hint of a scrape against pavement that hinted there was something sharpening its claws.

It wasn’t like war, there were no long moments of boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror. There was always terror, always something waiting for its moment. She returned home exhausted from the vigilance, not the battle.

“Paper or plastic?”

The nights were long, but the days were longer.

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