Howard hops off the rail to stomp on his cigarette, then kicks the butt off the edge of the roof. It makes a sizzling sound and catches on the force field. It lays in midair on a transparent surface, a reminder that death isn't an option for escape right now.
"Half a year, maybe? Little longer? It gets hard to tell time."
no subject
"Half a year, maybe? Little longer? It gets hard to tell time."