Max walked down the alley. He was walking with purpose and meaning, a
sense of emergency in the strides he took. Time was not waiting and it
wasn't for the wasting. He was thinking of how autumn felt when winter
arrived.
His fingers felt like they were asleep, like thousands
of dull needles pricking them. He glanced at the tip of his fingers and
could see through them.
Damn, he thought. Not yet. Not now.
His
cell phone chimed, but he wasn't in the mood to answer it. He was
glancing around the walls and looking for something. He continued to
walk briskly, scanning the walls and the doors. He could feel the
pins moving down his fingers, and at the moment he was scared to look at
them.
"There it is," Max muttered. He stopped at a wall with
several graffiti symbols on it and then he tapped the wall in various
places. The wall shimmered a little and Max stepped through, with a look
of relief on his face.
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