Ficly

Imagine

George ignored the slight shimmer in the man as he stood. He had taught himself that particular trick over the last few years.

“There’s no changing the past. But maybe the future … "

He always looked a little flat from this angle. Turning away, George pushed out the door and descended the staircase, considering what had been discussed tonight. As he reached the street, and saw the chain-link fences and parked cars, George turned around and glanced behind himself, looking back toward where he’d been.

The breeze blew the weeds in the empty lot, allowing an almost unearthly hiss to rise into the air.

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