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the bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
His shield was still intact, stretching his teeth out and letting his piercing wink out at her from the corner of his mouth. Oskar's eyebrows drew downwards, one shooting up again immediately, as if fleeing from the expression forming on his face.

"I think," he said, and swallowed - hard, working around a dry throat, "that we should conserve as much water as we can. We don't really know how long this is... going to take."

His smile turned downwards, forming an apology, eyes flicking to the left.
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God Help the Outcasts · Crematorium Gardens