monster.
[ stille . dalit ]
He had been saving it for some special occasion but Dalit figured now was as good as a time as there would be. Apologies, he mused, were always made better with an offering and this was his thought as he made his way to her house, a case -- a case -- of precious beer tucked under his arm. The walk was painfully slow, his mind playing and replaying everything that had led up to this sorry half-assed apology and what would possibly happen afterwards. Yelling was his conclusion. ( But at least they would have beer. ) |