Bones
Two
His breath is hot, his fingers cold. Jamie’s neck is visible through peepholes in his hair, thin and blond. His broken nails trace the curve of his clavicle, his favorite. He does this on a regular basis, to his brother’s dismay. He’s only checking to make sure they’re still there. Alas, they are.
It’s raining again, for the fourth day in a row, but there’s steam on the windows. Through these windows is the River Avon, something which Jamie’s eyes have come to know quite well in the two and a half months that he has lived here. In this time, Jamie has seen three people float off the bridge – all of whom have come back up sputtering and soaked to the bone. They picked the wrong bridge, these idiots.
There is a lesson to be learned here, there is.
It’s raining again, for the fourth day in a row, but there’s steam on the windows. Through these windows is the River Avon, something which Jamie’s eyes have come to know quite well in the two and a half months that he has lived here. In this time, Jamie has seen three people float off the bridge – all of whom have come back up sputtering and soaked to the bone. They picked the wrong bridge, these idiots.
There is a lesson to be learned here, there is.