// whats up im gonna roll in here like im not literally a week late thats my bad //
the man squinted at her. the face. he knew the face.
"do i know you?"
memories were a funny thing. it made sense time was represented with twin glass jars, one pouring sand into the other; memories were like that sand. so quick to escape the fingers clenching to them tightly. the most you were left with was a pair of slightly dusty hands, with a few irritating grains left behind in the crevices of skin.
bucky stared at the woman like she was one such grain he was trying his utmost to scrub out of his irritated hand. but he had a metal hand, now, and *boy* it was hard to clean out the crevices. this grain wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.
