While Goodnight rummaged, Billy admired him. The lines and sinew of him, the places where he had tan lines, freckles, scars. Goodnight was a constellation of life.
He was still looking when Goodnight turned back around. All he could do was smile softly at him.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2016-11-24 06:29 am (UTC)He was still looking when Goodnight turned back around. All he could do was smile softly at him.