[ Standing over the notepad with its ghost of a phone number impressed down into the paper, she doesn't take it right away. He's moving toward the door and she doesn't want him to go, she realises. She wants him to explain that word — mutant — until she can pry apart the scant syllables into discrete, malleable bits and hold them with both hands.
But that's another vague, creeping feeling she doesn't have the words in her vocabulary to express.
No detective questions. A slight frown, and then a nod.
It isn't until the bells above the door have stopped jangling and he's halfway down the sidewalk that she rips the piece of paper with his number off the pad and shoves it into her pocket. ]
no subject
But that's another vague, creeping feeling she doesn't have the words in her vocabulary to express.
No detective questions. A slight frown, and then a nod.
It isn't until the bells above the door have stopped jangling and he's halfway down the sidewalk that she rips the piece of paper with his number off the pad and shoves it into her pocket. ]