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White n Silver

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4/18/2018 #1

Snap.....tap.....the clack echoed. A pause, then again. A rhythm, long and simple. The snap of gloved fingers, crisp and clear. The tap of a cane on wood, clear and crisp. "Sorry to take the spotlight." Came a smooth and slick voice, like pen to paper. The lights lining the hall flickered, flashed, each in time with the rhythm, the beat, the tap, the snap. The knock of boot on floorboards jumped along with the beat, keeping in time. "Gotta tell ya something." Drew the voice, letting each word flick across the air. The lights all dimmed, the rhythm stopping suddenly. "Ya mess with Snake Eyes, ya get one chance, role the dice, confess your lies, or suffer and die. Take ya pick pretty kitty, little doll. Times a wastin. Clocks a tickin. And your inks runnin dry." Hissed Snake Eyes, the lights flashing brightly above him. The ink black suit, the tailcoat, the top hat, the cane, the white gloved finger tips. Each moving, contemplating with his swagger, swaying to the beat, letting the rhythm carry along, letting each movement flow. The cane spun, the fingers snapped, the boot hit the floorboards. His cube head, each side indented. Four, three, five, six, and two black eyes, a large grin.

5/3/2018 #2
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