[ It took approximately four minutes of Murphy wandering the streets of De Chima before Ronan's various neglected forms of social media began blowing up with notifications. All of these were about John Murphy, but none of them seemed to be from John Murphy, which was perhaps the first hint of something gone amiss.
It took another three minutes for Ronan to get dressed and throw himself into the driver's seat of his BMW. An additional fifteen to race into town and park said BMW. And then under a second for Ronan to flicker away and reappear right at Murphy's side, like some hallucination forming out of the periphery. ]
If you stab me again, Murphy, I swear to fucking Christ.
[ Yes, here he is: a six-foot-two punk wearing the twenty-year-old version of Murphy's face. ]
De Chima
It took another three minutes for Ronan to get dressed and throw himself into the driver's seat of his BMW. An additional fifteen to race into town and park said BMW. And then under a second for Ronan to flicker away and reappear right at Murphy's side, like some hallucination forming out of the periphery. ]
If you stab me again, Murphy, I swear to fucking Christ.
[ Yes, here he is: a six-foot-two punk wearing the twenty-year-old version of Murphy's face. ]