Sock-footed, Crowley pads carefully over to the window, and considers the latch, and the hinges. He's not surprised at what he finds. Every book left lying unattended on a coffee table eventually becomes a copy of Uncommon Grounds; every digital recording on a secondary drive inevitably finds itself transformed into a Rick Astley number; and no matter how many times nor how often they open this window, the latch, and the hinges, are always rusted shut.
Gradually, as silently as a little more than strictly human effort will allow, Crowley tries to ease the latch up off its hook.
- WHUNK
He hadn't realised: his palms are slick with sweat.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-08-25 06:16 pm (UTC)Gradually, as silently as a little more than strictly human effort will allow, Crowley tries to ease the latch up off its hook.
- WHUNK
He hadn't realised: his palms are slick with sweat.
It's warmer than he thought.