Deciding to postpone his invitation to Aldo to join him for a smoke, Ross decides to leave his friend to whatever freaky lyricist writing ritual he's engaged in, backs out of the room and closes the door.
Ross shakes his head as he walks along the corridor to the main door.
Writing in the dark. In a purposefully blacked-out room. n***d. How could Aldo even see what he was writing?
A few minutes later, Ross is standing outside the building under the awning next to the front door, sheltering from the snow which has been falling on and off for the past few days. He's shivering, taking deep, calming drags of a cigarette, and thinking of another day in the snow, years earlier.
Awright, Roadkill.
Ross unconsciously grits his teeth as he hears the voice in his head. His voice. Jimmy Weir's v
