b, post

the cafe buzzed with electronic outputs and caffeine junkies. there was a booth where one woman sat. her white fingers tapping impatiently the ceramic table surface. she watched as thoks came and went to the station across the road. a note book lay open before her.

marx rubbed his eyes as he stummbled after the woman. there was a distinct glow that was nagging at his attention. she wouldn't see it. they passed the phog and tsura plag but nobody noticed.

"how much further?"

there was something rubbing his leg as he followed, he wanted to know what. his shoes felt like prisons, with each step enforcing their restricted space on his tired feet.

tap tap tap

marx turned his head sharply as the door slid open with a rattle. he couldn't make out who had come in. he sat in the booth with her, the cold of the vinyl pricked his back, and rubbed his hands over the soft ceramic surface.

"i'm not sure"
"well, if there is a way through we need--"
"i know"

he blinked and turned his face to the flourecent light, it glowed blue but not quite, blue.

"has nod been through"

she closed the notebook and wrapped her hands around the white mug infront of her.