 Help us we're a bunch of letters stuck in this box !!
Stopping just inside the entrance, Constantino blinked. If one were to be watching his face, it would appear that the cogs and wheels inside were turning sluggishly. Was it him--and it could very possibly be him--or was it looking a tad different in here than last year? Con's head turned slowly from left to right, his shaggy black hair dangling in his eyes. He blew up at his bangs, displacing them for a brief moment. Yes. . . . yes. Definitely something different in here.
Con meandered over to where there were several boys attempting to stay seated on the couches. He poked the sofa, realizing that the furniture was covered with plastic. For some reason this reminded Constantino of plastic-covered diapers. Even the noises the couch was making sounded like plastic diaper covers. He shuddered involuntarily.
"Hey," he said, deciding finally to make contact with fellow earthlings. "What's up in here? It seems. . . off."
__________________ 
His glass is half-empty. And it's not what he ordered. |