DRABBLEVEMBER: inception, g
"I believe this is our left," Eames says seconds before they rush past it. Eames' expression – mildly expectant – remains so even as the crossroad passes and more highway stretches ahead, framed by farmland. Arthur grits his teeth harder, and Eames says, "Ah, well" like this isn’t the fourth time this has happened.
"No blood on the interior," Ariadne reminds. "This is a rental." She's sitting cross-legged in the back with her laptop open, her seatbelt buckled loosely in a vague nod to car safety. In her wool sweater and jeans, she's the only one who doesn't look out of place driving around the countryside in a teal rented compact.
"No blood on the interior," Ariadne reminds. "This is a rental." She's sitting cross-legged in the back with her laptop open, her seatbelt buckled loosely in a vague nod to car safety. In her wool sweater and jeans, she's the only one who doesn't look out of place driving around the countryside in a teal rented compact.