(Seated under loftbed in antique leather chair, gray hair mussed)
There's something...sacred about a Wednesday....
(Packs more sweet tobacco into pipe, stares off)
Yes...
(Sets bony legs up on desk, slacks crumpled, eelskin shoes glinting in faint lamplight)
Yes, there's something sacred...mm....about a Wednesday....
(Rasping cough)
(Silence)
(Opens leather books and begins to furiously scrawl in a forgotten language)
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