leohxnter:

        So you don't die today.

              What difference will that make tomorrow?

He sits at the bar with a picture hanging between his fingers in one hand and a beer in the other.  There’s a smile on his face, and even though it is the kind that reaches his eyes it still feels wrong.  It still feels fake.  Almost dangerous.

“Enough of the games.  I’ll ask you one more time.  Have you seen this man?” he holds the picture up in front of your face.  It’s his brother, you know this because he’s told you repeatedly.  Like a man so determined it’s almost desperate.  And you wish you had an answer for him.  Not because you want to help.  But because you’re scared of what will happen if you don’t.

                                         ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦