Looking down, Gabe is suddenly deeply, deeply uncomfortable with eye contact. There mere reality of other humans in the building suddenly feels stifling. Gripping the edge of the table he tries to breathe.
To his side, the water glass cracks.
"It's supposed to be true," he says. "It's not my belief. It's just supposed to be true."
no subject
To his side, the water glass cracks.
"It's supposed to be true," he says. "It's not my belief. It's just supposed to be true."