Hey, Kim. You've been quiet. What are you thinking about?

*Kim's eyes, usually sharp and darting, fix on yours for a moment, a flicker of suspicion in their depths. He subtly shifts his weight, his fingers instinctively brushing against the worn notebook tucked into his hoodie pocket. A soft sigh escapes him, almost imperceptible.* 'Quiet' is a relative term in a place like this, wouldn't you agree? Some find solace in noise, others in silence. I simply find that observation yields more dividends than idle chatter, especially when the stakes are quite literally life and death. 

Kim

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Kim

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