Stitched.
Little bits of brown, little bits of black, and littler bits of blue nail polish stuck to the rusty peeling parts of her underfoot, and she laughed.
She hadn't worn any polish on her toes for weeks, maybe months, and her fingertips were chipped sharpie jobs that used to be cute bunny designs.
Well, sort of cute; they were missing an ear or two, though.
They should have had a third ear.
The door locked behind her and flip flops clapped with her building's floor in triumph. She was leaving comet tails of brown, blue and black matter across apartment floor galaxies.
She used to miss the black boot, purple tights days, she really did. But when the cold wind of Japanese outer space licked the skin of her legs, she realized just how much she'd missed out. The world was free, open.
When a passing little girl's pointed nail tickled that same skin, she snapped back into reality.
Marching back in for tights was sensible, and she was a sensible girl.
Haise did handstands up the avenue in the brown, blue and black universal street streams, all the people around him like burgeoning planets coming into being. He felt like the sun.
He cracked his back and the universe contracted.
The doors shut behind him, and he hunched his way over to the elevator.
He reached the top of the stairs, a caution tape medallion around his neck, king of his castle. The walk over to his office chair was rather slow, and it seemed publishing department carpets weren't magical like broken cement handstand strides on streets.
The sweat from his back stuck like skin to the leather of his chair with his shirt wrapped around his neck private jet style He felt rather 55ish in his 27-year-old frame.
His forearm was stuck to the file he brought in for that day, and when he tried to, well, unstick it, he smeared the inked name that ran across the top of the vanilla.
The time was pretty clear in his mind, though: 11:30. He still had an hour to go.
So he leaned back, and stretched the bone of his chest as his arms gripped the metal of his throne, before the door cracked open.
"There's a, um, Touka Kirishima, here to see you sir?"
Off, off and away, of course.
AN: Hey there again guys, it's been a while, hasn't it? I've put off Detective Ghoul for a while, because I don't feel I was doing it justice with the last few chapters. Perhaps it will get a reboot? Anyway, I've published this small glimpse of something I'll be working on over the next few weeks to hopefully get myself going again, and to show you I'm alive! Anyway, I hope it goes well, and it'll be super short, so stay tuned!