Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Sentience Part 7

And after quite a hiatus...the seventh part of Sentience.

Sentience Part 1
Sentience Part 2
Sentience Part 3
Sentience Part 4
Sentience Part 5
Sentience Part 6


Macon watched as Marie dropped her shoulder bag onto the floor beside the couch. "Can I just go ahead and get some sleep now?"

"Sure." He glanced around, feeling awkward, glad the shades were closed. Glad for some reason. "How's your head?"

She sat on the couch and shrugged. "I really won't know until I can find a doctor, but it hurts a lot and I feel sick."

"I'm sorry." He clenched and unclenced one fist. "Would it be alright if did some work right over there in the kitchen? Just in case?"

"I'm not gonna steal anything," the girl replied, her voiced muffled by a pillow.

"No, I meant I don't want to be closed off in a closet if someone were to bust in here."

"Whatever makes you feel better." She let out a huff of air. "Now please let me take a nap."

He started to reply, but thought better of it and stepped away to grab his tablet.

His cell phone buzzed. He gulped, feeling nauseous again, and pulled it out of his pocket, hoping it was the normal use one. The fake cell phone, the mask he used.

He knew when his fingers touched it that the small, plain thing was his oversight. He should have gotten rid of it when he could.

They'd be able to find it just because he had it. That was easy for them. He debated answering and just lying. It might buy them time, but he didn't want to leave Marie here and he most definitely didn't want to meet these people anywhere. Not now.

So he turned the phone off and crushed it under his foot.

He turned on the tablet and sat at the kitchen table, doodling idly. The cartoons he drew were cathartic, and he knew they were decent. Any other time, he'd be working on one. It was long due for an update, he knew, but he had no inspiration. He'd do it later, find some way to put it up, wherever he ran, in defiance of these ruthless people he'd become far to connected to.

He waited as the sliver of light visible between the shades changed and dimmed as the sunlight moved ever on to it's setting point.

Restless didn't even begin to describe it.

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