Travis arched his head to try to get a look at the woman before Reginald stepped into the room. “Huh. Looks like a regular ol’ horny cougar to me,” he muttered to himself. He had started talking to himself more and more, realizing that nobody was actually paying attention to him and so he could think out loud without consequence. He found it very comforting to know he had the world technically all to himself when he tried to pass the time late at night, while he practiced jumping from rooftop to rooftop.
He kept alert, scanning the hallways and even looking out the windows to see if there was another No One hanging about, but could find no sign. He was patient, his mind wandering to what exactly was happening in the room. “He wouldn’t, would he?”
He heard the elevator ding, and looked quickly to see a hotel worker, pushing a winecart. No tinge of recognition fired, so he calmed a bit and watched as the man stopped in front of the room Reginald went into. “Oh, wine. Obviously.”
He heard a door open behind him, and suddenly a pealing burst of laughter emitted, and a drunken man stumbled into the hall, loudly slurring through a song as he tripped across the hall straight into a painting. The hotel worker looked in his direction to see what the ruckus was about.
“What are the odds?” Travis said, a little stunned by the coincidence, when he heard the sound of gunfire.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment