The Grave Robbers
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MaduroEm andamento10m
Última atualização qua, jul 24, 2024
Of course I heard him, but none of the words coming out of his mouth are making any sense. My lighter keeps clicking, out of juice. I won't let it go though, again and again, cigarette dangling from my lips, flashlight in my other hand cast down at the ground, illuminating the overgrown weeds.
"What are you talking about?" I mumble, shoving the dried up lighter back in my pocket and holding out my hand for his. He swats me away, face tight in the poor light.
"What aren't you getting, Moppy? But the damn cigarette away. We need to go now."
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