"The years seem to go in cycles mostly. Four, six, eight. I wasn't... terribly concerned about last year, unless the city disrupted something. But this year..."
He trails off, looking down at his hands. He's never had anyone to talk to it about before, not that he would talk to about it, which makes it strange.
no subject
He trails off, looking down at his hands. He's never had anyone to talk to it about before, not that he would talk to about it, which makes it strange.
"This year, maybe," he admits.