moondunes
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Summary
He's practiced it for weeks, now. Out loud in the shower. In front of the mirror, while he's shaving. On his drives to and from Harbor. "Firefighter Buckley," he says, over and over again, until the words come out just right: even, emotionless, empty.
"Firefighter Buckley," he says, as he stands there in this debris-strewn corner of the remains of this warehouse as it slowly, achingly heaves itself down to earth, and the words do not come out like he practiced.
"What the fuck," Evan says, shoving his visor up.
They run into each other in the northwest quadrant.
Bookmarked by moondunes
23 Jun 2025