Everest
"Some genital reconstruction surgeries." Ever replies, and it's at this point that the cab driver looks worriedly into his rearview mirror. "No bleeding in my cab!" He barks in a thick accent, narrowing bushy eyebrows at Mateo.
As his wound is pressed upon (just a few popped stitches, no big deal really), Ever feels nausea rise in the back of his throat like a rubber duck displaced by a flailing child. "I might pass out," He whispers chipperly.
"Mateowho?" The man's voice on the other end demands. "I'm looking for Everest Hart. I've been told he was just taken from the hospital not of his own accord."
As his wound is pressed upon (just a few popped stitches, no big deal really), Ever feels nausea rise in the back of his throat like a rubber duck displaced by a flailing child. "I might pass out," He whispers chipperly.
"Mateowho?" The man's voice on the other end demands. "I'm looking for Everest Hart. I've been told he was just taken from the hospital not of his own accord."
I was a dead man walking,
with bloodshot eyes—right place, wrong time.
with bloodshot eyes—right place, wrong time.
