Down: Pinhole
“He was on the floor, wedged up against the door to prevent an escape while he slept. Before he’d crashed for the night he had Benona empty out some tins of food and tie them with thread to the pulled curtains so he’d hear them rattle if she tried to signal someone on the street.
“Leave him be, Polly. Go back to bed,” Benona said sternly when she came out of the bathroom.
Polly had identical hair to her mother, yellow and silky, but she was prettier, and while her mother’s eyes were mudd...y brown, hers were sky blue.
“Who are you?” she asked Woodbourne.
He propped himself up, his back against the door. “My name’s Brandon. You’re Polly, right?”
“How’d you know?”
“Your mum told me, didn’t she?”
“You smell bad.”
“Polly!” Benona said.
“It’s okay.MoreLess
“Leave him be, Polly. Go back to bed,” Benona said sternly when she came out of the bathroom.
Polly had identical hair to her mother, yellow and silky, but she was prettier, and while her mother’s eyes were mudd...y brown, hers were sky blue.
“Who are you?” she asked Woodbourne.
He propped himself up, his back against the door. “My name’s Brandon. You’re Polly, right?”
“How’d you know?”
“Your mum told me, didn’t she?”
“You smell bad.”
“Polly!” Benona said.
“It’s okay.MoreLess
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