[ Things she's not planning on doing: getting closer as the park bench just... does something she doesn't know how to describe. Stops existing like it used to be? Her fingers curl into the fabric of her shirt, one that seems to switch between stripes and patterns of pineapple or pigeons with no apparent rhyme or reason.
The park has been marginally more sane than the colony streets elsewhere. Maybe that's what this man had been thinking too, but right now, he looks as scared as she feels. Was what happened to the bench himself or someone else? ]
Phase III
The park has been marginally more sane than the colony streets elsewhere. Maybe that's what this man had been thinking too, but right now, he looks as scared as she feels. Was what happened to the bench himself or someone else? ]
Sir? Are you okay?