End of the world. The words are like music to your ears, the sweetest symphony Mozart or Rachmaninoff or Schubert had ever composed.
You almost greedily take the pen and paper from this Nick. Almost immediately, ink begins to spread about on paper as you sketch the Earth being blown up. Beneath it, you write, Am I close?
no subject
You almost greedily take the pen and paper from this Nick. Almost immediately, ink begins to spread about on paper as you sketch the Earth being blown up. Beneath it, you write, Am I close?