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scribble_puppetTheir feet hit gritty pavement.
It's the middle of a block of foggy street in a run-down commercial district. Not the skyscrapers of New York, but squat, huddled old buildings of a quaint New England town. Behind them is a dusty toy store; other storefronts litter the street to either side and in front.
The whole place echoes emptily, the movement of the fog the only sound other than themselves.
Amber scuffs a sneaker on the asphalt. "So... yeah. Here it is."
It's the middle of a block of foggy street in a run-down commercial district. Not the skyscrapers of New York, but squat, huddled old buildings of a quaint New England town. Behind them is a dusty toy store; other storefronts litter the street to either side and in front.
The whole place echoes emptily, the movement of the fog the only sound other than themselves.
Amber scuffs a sneaker on the asphalt. "So... yeah. Here it is."
no subject
Date: 2010-06-09 10:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-10 02:57 pm (UTC)Amber stops, clinging to a lightpost and gulping air. Her legs shake.
"rache?" she wheezes, then swallows more air into her aching lungs.
"RACHEL?"
....not the smartest idea she's ever had. She realizes it, and freezes, ears straining to hear anything beyond the pounding of her blood or the whispering fog.
Lucky. Nobody's coming after her.
Not lucky. Rachel's not coming after her.
"fuck fuck fuck." She sags against a brick wall, taking care to stretch out her legs.
She only relaxes long enough to get her breath and down a few granola bars. She doesn't have the luxury to take it easy, even with screaming legs and worry for her friend. She's off at a steady pace as soon as her breath gets back (http://hollow-way.livejournal.com/4872.html).