There are no pictures on his desk, but there’s a small camera in a case. A slender, fine-made knife in a sheath. Carver finishes the sandwich without tasting any of it and helps Rosita tuck those away, too.
In the end, even after all this time, he doesn’t own much that matters. Certainly nothing he couldn’t leave behind if he had to run. Maybe he’d regret it, but he’s carried a lot of regrets for a long time. That hasn’t changed in this place, not really.
But the little things matter. The books. The knife that Grayson gave him. The camera that Paul gave him. A small, battered notebook.
Little things. Ghosts.
He tucks the kitten into his pocket and shoulders the pack, giving Rosita a tired nod. Okay.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chiming
no subject
Date: 2023-10-11 02:48 pm (UTC)From:In the end, even after all this time, he doesn’t own much that matters. Certainly nothing he couldn’t leave behind if he had to run. Maybe he’d regret it, but he’s carried a lot of regrets for a long time. That hasn’t changed in this place, not really.
But the little things matter. The books. The knife that Grayson gave him. The camera that Paul gave him. A small, battered notebook.
Little things. Ghosts.
He tucks the kitten into his pocket and shoulders the pack, giving Rosita a tired nod. Okay.