I have to ask. What’s with the eyes on that one?

First time I saw him, puttering through the same light that the stranger floated in on, I was ready to forget him as soon as I could, like all the other slobs I see coming through that door. Then he started searching the room, except it wasn’t just the room. He was seeing something else, or trying to. And I wondered, what the hell is this guy looking for?

He wasn’t looking for the stranger and his lady friend, which was a shocker. He didn’t go with them, even when they offered.

His eyes. They’re red and pissed and tired but cool and alert at the same time. He pretends he doesn’t know anything, especially when he does know. I know he’s not stupid. But how do I know? He hasn’t managed to prove anything of use yet.

The trouble started right away, on that first night. Once he started looking at me, I felt that I couldn’t look back. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to meet his eyes. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. That would have meant giving something to him. What does that mean, Tin?

Maybe I’m afraid we’re looking for the same thing. But I’m just as afraid that we’re not. I’d love to disappoint him and yet I don’t want to. I suppose what I really want to do is crack his head open and see what’s inside.

No, I don’t.