"The fuck are you doin'?" I mutter. No accusation, no worry or anger or anything else in my voice. Just exhaustion, but nowhere near as much exhaustion as I can see in the set of his shoulders. I've been banging around the island for two days... with him, with Bobby and Ellen, with whoever the hell else I felt like I could be of help to at the time.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-07-19 08:18 pm (UTC)I'm tired. I wanna go home. I can't. Not yet.