$0.08

[balancethebooks.livejournal.com]

I shouldn't have used her as my cover. I shouldn't have even brought it up. Now ... I can't get the image out of my head. How she looked. So much blood. I thought I was used to seeing that much blood. The knife near her hand. She fought back, damn it. Gibson just ...

NO.

I have to stop thinking about this. I have work to do. I have to ... look for a pink-haired doll-maker. Christ, that sounds ridiculous. But it's a JOB, which is something. And from the way Mr. Human Resources looked? Once I find him I might just get to do some real work.

I hate to admit it, but it's going to make me feel better. Something like that, I can still control. I know, because .. I felt it, down in town. Last week. When I had that ... I don't even know what to call it. Performance review? Test? He seemed pleased enough with what I brought him. So I should think I'm hired. Two jobs.

It was almost calming, that night, though. Washing the blood out of the bottoms of my pants. Knowing I had something to clean, because I'd worked.

It's good to have the work, again.

But I still have that hole in my life that she left behind. The hole that Gibson put there. And two glasses of wine and a chat with a demon aren't going to come close to filling it. I need to find something else to do with my days.


[sure, it's late, but a certain accountant and assassin-for-hire can't sleep. so he'll be wandering the hall of the twelfth floor in his pajamas and a nice bathrobe, looking for something to do, journal tucked under his arm. after a while, he'll start working his way downward, since the only other room he could go into is the gym, and well. not in his pajamas, certainly]