The End, or The Start
Like a statue. He was frozen, frozen like hard ice. Even colder than the air flowing outside when the temperature fell way in the negatives. He froze and stayed like that until a pat on his shoulder from Maurice wavered his intense gaze on the poor girl trying to ignore that fact. How else would she feel with a stranger’s unwavered gaze?
“What’s wrong?” drenched in concern, Maurice finally asked. It’s odd, even for him.
“Nothing.” That is the nod a child flashes when he has a half-eaten candy bar in his hands behind him, and mom asks if he ate it. He couldn’t be more obvious than that.
“You sure don’t seem to be.”
He just flashed a made-up smile. “Should we go?”
“Yeah! Let’s go.” Scott spoke, marching ahead.
The four of them left, to enjoy the buffet they have
