"We are never going to leave this town."
She's got her upper body propped against the low wall of the parking garage as she stares out at the fifth-story view. A soft but constant breeze has the hair around her face dancing, interfering with her sight. That breeze makes it comfortable here, makes it easy to forget the heat that had been crushing their souls down at street-level.
"Technically speaking, it's a city." He's not looking at her: his camera is pointed at the setting sun, but he's not really looking at that, either. His vision is turned inward, to fractions and angles and shutter speeds.
"Well whatever the hell it is we're stuck in it."
He doesn't respond. She attempts to throw a leg up over the wall, to lay forlornly along it's thick top, but it's just a little too high for her 5'5" frame. In a perverse moment of defiance she leaves her foot up and collapses her chest against the concrete: it is a posture both awkward and unflattering, but she doesn't care what anyone passing by might think- she is miserable, and her pose ought to reflect that.
So maybe she does care what they think.
"It's a black hole, that's what it is," she mutters to the bits of gravel pressing into her cheek. "It sucks things in and won't let them leave. Look, it's even doing it to the sun."
She's not wrong about this: the sun, having turned a brilliant red in its struggle to escape, finally seems to accept the inevitable, and sinks sullenly behind the distant hills.
West, she thinks as her ankle starts to go numb and the shadows deepen. He's trying so hard to get West, but come morning he'll still be here in the East. Damn that stupid woman, anyway.
(Plan B)
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