Brain Matter and Birch Black 1: good morning, captain

17 May

This makes no fucking sense.

It’s been exactly one second, or maybe—probably—even less.

One second ago — Jack Murdock was alive.

In the following second — that ceased to be true.

No one’s there. Nothing’s changed. I’m alone. And all I can think is, “who the fuck just killed my best man?!”

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