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After each anecdote-tale like (they've got like an anecdote-routive, the E.M. cops), the shorter E.M. Security officer always uses his tongue to manipulate the little green parasol from one side of his mouth to the other as he holds his snifter tight in both hands and makes his jowls accordionize as he nods and posits that the terrifying thing is that the common unifying symptom of most of The Shed's objay darts is a terror so terrifying it makes the object of the terror come true, somehow, which observation always make both of the big dim workingmen shiver an identical and kind of almost delicious-looking shiver, pushing their hats back and shaking their heads at their glasses, as Hal blows out the fire of the second Blue Flame they've bought him, making a wish before he blows. |
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arkadyan's journal