The eyes are green. Who
knew? He has a look.
A wolf is in him.
He has figured out that the
most part of him is
and it lurks and seethes in his eyes, snarling
Everything else is tranquil and flat.
Cool as cruel.
This is a disaster.
The Boilerman is tinkering in the other room. That’s not the proper name for the job, is it? Is it electrician? I want to say thermal electrician. Thermal engineer? Heating specialist. Hot water professional. I should have checked his pin badge, when he knocked. Coffee, milk, and one.
He’s battering away at something, throwing noise down the hall; every few seconds I can hear flushing sounds and scratching sounds, and the sounds of a drill. We didn’t have proper milk, only soy. Prentendy milk. I imagine him waiting for me to leave the room and then tipping it down the sink.
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