Doom teka teka teka doom teka tek.
The ringing became louder still, until it filled all of the world that was or ever could be, and he breathed with the imaginary tambourine.
Doom teka teka teka doom teka tek.
He wrapped himself in his arms, and, as he did,the rhythm became buzzing of bees and the ringing became church-bells. He let it take him, fill him, expand him, and move him in a way that was more physical then he would have thought.
Movement?
Music.
His headache was gone.
The fiddle came to accompany the tambourine once more, and, just for an instant, he remembered his brothers. But then, the instant was enough, that time.
Doom teka teka teka doom teka tek.
Doom teka teka teka doom teka tek.
Doom teka teka teka doom teka tek.
Doom teka teka teka doom teka tek.
ONE
A Wolf, A Man, and an Old Gypsy Woman
05 NOV 17:30My partner is an asshole,
my ex-wife is a bitch.
My daughter is a hooker,
the suspect is a witch.
"STEPDOWN"
"Will you guys pipe down?"
No one noticed. The background buzz and rattle in the squad room, loud for a Sunday, didn't even falter. Bad enough that his desk was out in the middle of the room, with other guys always walking behind him, spooking the hell out of him on bad days. Did it also have to be butted up against Dumbshit's desk? He lifted his eyes from the smudged keys of the Smith-Coronamatic and the multilayered sheaf of paper that he'd just crammed in its maw and found himself looking at Durand's butt.