>put your arm out in front of you and walk slowly forward, stopping if you come into contact with anything
After about four paces you hit a wall, but not before banging your knee on the edge of something. You heard something on top of it rattle, then settle in place.
>absorb scents
The scent of dust hangs in the air. Your clothes reek of sweat. It must have been a while since you've changed.
Light fills the room. Well, as much as one battery powered lantern can anyway. It appears to be on its last legs of the current battery, based on the light's flickering, but it will do for now.
A look around the room reveal that it is a stately study, old, and half-mothballed. Canvas tarps cover the furniture. A chair, what appears to be a bookcase, and something tall and cabinet-like are covered by tarps.
As for the endstand, it's of solid construction, with a single drawer on the front.
Badass biker bitch Bridie, you have brilliantly bounced your way into a bothersome bout of boundless bewilderment.
You have only your meager possessions and your wits to aid in your escape.
As mentioned before, three tarps cover a chair, a bookshelf-looking piece of furniture, and a cabinet-looking piece of furniture. The windows are covered by curtains, opposite the door. The endstand, which is now behind you, has a drawer which you have not opened.
One shot from those solid gams of yours rocks the door, but it's held fast. Probably not just made of wood and metal, or you'd have broken it off its hinges.
A dead-bolt lock, the key-hole facing you, rests above the doorknob.
Force won't solve this part of the puzzle, it seems. Time to use that brain of yours.
The windows display a dark body of water, completely still save a few ripples. The far shore has a thick line of trees. It's night-time, a full moon hangs in the sky and a vast array of stars dot the void. You're far enough from a city that no light pollution can reach here. As beautiful as it is, you seem to be a good ways away from the town you last recall being in. There were hardly half this many stars.
You try the windows, but they don't open. And the metal frame is too narrow for your burly bod.
A smartphone, or at least a mini-tablet. The brand doesn't ring any bells, the only logo on it is a waxing crescent moon etched into the glass above the screen.
...Funny though, wasn't the last time you saw the moon during the waxing crescent? So it has to have been at least a week... No wonder you smell, and come to think of it, you're starving too.
A 9-volt battery. The expiration date is two years from now. Assuming it hasn't been used, it's gonna hold as good as new.
A notebook and pencil. Leather bound. Perfect for you, seeing how it's a well-known fact bikers love leather.
It is a well-known fact that biker jackets have Dirac seas sewn into them.
It is also a well-known fact that that is not how Dirac seas friggin' work, and even if it were, they couldn't be sewn into fabric. Now matter how made of cow they are.
As counter, it is also well-known the biker gangs don't give a fuck about the law. The laws of physics are no exception.
Comments
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead