Sarah walked in through the open
doorway and stopped cold, staring open-mouthed.
Danny sat on a rolling bar stool
he’d found in the first floor offices. As he worked, he braced his right wrist
over his left forearm, balancing the tattoo gun over his current design. It was
exhausting working like this, without resting the tip of the gun on skin. He
held a cloth in his left hand, and with practiced ease, he lifted the gun and
pulled his left arm backward over the design, wiping the ink away as his hands
hovered over empty air.
Glancing at the book lying flat
next to him, Danny nodded and returned to his work. “It’s looking good,” he
said to the empty room. “We should be able to finish this up in a couple more
sessions.”
“Danny!” Sarah exclaimed.
The book crashed to the floor.
Danny jerked his gun up away from
his design and swore. “Dammit, Sarah! What are you doing here?”
“Really? Really?! What am *I*
doing here? Danny, what are *you* doing? And why is that design floating in the
air…”
Sarah’s face lost color, and she
lifted a hand to her temple, taking a
stumbling step forward.
Danny stood up fast and set his
tattoo gun and cloth on the table. Reaching for her, he stood between her and
the design, drawing her to sit in his chair. Hands on her shoulders, he pushed the
chair back toward the far wall.
“Sarah, honey, it’s okay. Take a
deep breath. Everything’s okay.”
TBC?
|
Dogs in house:
|
Houdini
|
|
|
|
|
Time writing
|
20 minutes
|
|
|
|
|
June word
count
|
7,705
|
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