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A Worse Idea 66

Anne set the phone down, slowly. She forgot to disconnect the call, she was so caught up in the moment.

Her mouth hung open. She stared at the bed she’d just crawled out of.

She’d already been having sleeping problems.

Ha. Seemed funny, looking back at that.

Anne could vaguely hear Prometheus’s voice talking to her through the cell.

It didn’t matter; she paid it no mind.

Shade was dead.

Goddammit, that wasn’t a surprise. She’d known that Shade was dead.

It just seemed so…

Concrete.

“Death isn’t forever,” she mumbled to herself.

She leaned on one hand, trying to get up.

She collapsed back to the floor.

She just felt like she didn’t have the will, the drive, the need to get up.

She began to shiver.

She regretted not even having a fucking pair of pants on.

“If David came ba…”

She stopped mid-sentence

Talking to herself couldn’t be a good sign.

She rolled over, so that her back was against the floor.

The floor was cold, but she stayed there.

She closed her eyes.

She wasn’t going to sleep for a long, long time.

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