A shack, abandoned in the middle of the preserve. A full moon rising over the trees; pain, wracking his body.
Everything brighter, sharper. Scents stronger -- a whiff of citrus, mandarin lime, from her hair. His eyesight blurring behind his glasses, clearing up as he takes them off.
George shook his hand out. "Bit of static there," he apologised. "Sorry."
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Everything brighter, sharper. Scents stronger -- a whiff of citrus, mandarin lime, from her hair. His eyesight blurring behind his glasses, clearing up as he takes them off.
George shook his hand out. "Bit of static there," he apologised. "Sorry."