Ten; Smoke & Mirrors - Opshop
Jump on board, take a leap of faith
How can we feel so close now
Yet be so far away?
The brick is hard against Racetrack's back; his papers are heavy in his arms, and his voice is hoarse in his throat. A horse trots past, and when it moves, Spot's standing there, hat tilted back from his freckled face. He doesn't say anything, just hoists the papers onto his shoulder and moves towards the stables, knows without looking back that Spot will follow. In the shaky lighting of the stalls, Spot gives him a long, slow look. "You look like shit, Racetrack," he says.
"Mmm."
Eye contact, and neither needs to talk.