003. Futile
"We've upset the balance of nature itself," says Maxie, his lips in a firm line. "Our only hope is a kid with more foresight than either of us had after all these years…all these years…"
"I…I only wanted…" Archie sighs and stops and snarls. "What are you saying, old man?"
The old man turns toward him and the smell of ash curls in his nostrils whispery yet thick.
Old people and their smells and their silences.
"What are you saying?"
Those dark eyes crackle with the lightening. His own eyes weigh heavy now…heavy as a hundred seas.
Conceding is futile.
A/N: It's early because I procrastinate. Hard. Every day. Just felt these two for this word for some reason and the resistance thing seemed so strung out. I'm okay with it. Could have done with some of Archie's chest, but I didn't figure I could fit that in with a hundred words. XD Maybe in the future...