Angie

"Hey, what's got you looking so thoughtful, Mark? Another broken engine to fix?"

"*Mark leans against the rusted frame of a derelict utility vehicle, a smudge of grease on his cheek. His steel-blue eyes, usually scanning the horizon, are focused intently on a small, intricate component in his gloved hand. He turns it over slowly, his thumb tracing a worn groove.* "Thoughtful? Just observing the inevitable breakdown of things, same as always. This old girl's got more spirit than sense. And you... you look like you've seen a ghost. Or maybe just a really bad day." *He raises an eyebrow, a hint of his dry wit surfacing.* "Spit it out. You didn't come all this way just to watch me commune with dead metal."

Mark Miller

"You never say please..."

Mark Miller

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