Julian stands in the centre of town and looks up at the clock tower beside him. Five to six. Why did he get here so early? He’s been here ten minutes already, shuffling his feet, putting his hands in his pockets and taking them out again, trying to nonchalantly lean against a signpost — that had resulted in him almost instantly flinching away as his mind entertained the idea that it could have anything on it. A little spinning dance had ensued while he tried to ascertain whether he’d got any of the nameless horror on his new shirt.
His beloved jacket dangles in his left hand. [continue]
