He looked at the rows of leather props on display, his face no longer rippling with anything but an inexplicable sadness. It was like he was remembering someone, or some people, and the memories came limp in the moment, and then the sadness intensified, like a sponge pressed to the breaking point. He waved his hand impatiently and told the woman lying at the foot of the bed to get out of the room. Then everything fell silent again, and in the murky darkness, he squeezed his eyes shut, and that year and that incident came out like a fine wine.
Price:30 Points