>>4147
Staring into the muslin, Brendan's vision warped slightly as a dissociative experience intruded on the periphery of his consciousness. Deep in the stained muslin - innocence lost - he sees himself. His life. The pieces. The lies. The power. The prestige. The money. End of the line, kid's crafts with a crooked cook to pay the bills, the woman at his side just reminding him of the ruthless, amoral insider trading Afton's got a court order for with regards to their relationship and his wallet. Torn, tattered, sodden, forlorn and all sodden up inside, wrung for his last cent and hung out to dry, tacked to some trite decoration as his final epitaph, to be thrown out in the passing of the season.