Chapter 22

Wilbur

I touched my eye as I felt the nerves jumping. Oh, dear. Jaime snapped a leg off by accident. Greg's anger dissipates. So do the damn walls. I can see Michael running as a child after Lyola in the snow.

"Oh, I think we should hold this discussion later," I said. I stood up as quickly as possible. Jaime puts the chair down, he fixes it to the point it looked better before someone touched it.

Do you hear it? The sound of the thumping?

Watch as the walls begin to lose their shape and form into something, something of a distant memory.

"Will?" Greg said. Jaime decided to go upstairs, I heard McLennan invite Jaime to play Clue. I heard the sound of the woods being scraped against by the sound of the chair's legs. I want to tell him to stop, stop.

The snow is melting. The water rising.

"Stop that," but it's not my voice. I ripped my fingernail off. Greg looked concerned but had no fear in his eyes.