Joe let the battered book slip from his fingers and swallowed hard. When were they coming? The pool of dark liquid was seeping further across the floor. He reached up from where he crouched and yanked the door handle again. The lock didn't budge. The ticking clock echoed in the empty room. What if they never came?
Joe grabbed the book back and began tearing out minuscule fragments and sliding them under the door. As his fingers pushed the full-stop out of sight, he lay down and turned his face to the gap, to where the evening sun would come.
Joe grabbed the book back and began tearing out minuscule fragments and sliding them under the door. As his fingers pushed the full-stop out of sight, he lay down and turned his face to the gap, to where the evening sun would come.
