[ Neal was about to make himself known when John starts yelling at the ceiling. He rounds the corner of one of the stacks, finally spotting the source of all the noise. ]
We use our indoor voices to question the reality of our surroundings.
[ Hello, John, have a New Yorker in a crisp black sweater and a trench coat, a fedora perched at a rakish angle on his head and somehow managing to look good instead of ridiculous. He's wearing incongruously big stompy boots. The only other sign that these aren't his clothes is the fact that his jeans are a little too short.
In his arms, a photography book titled The Metropolitan Museum of Art by Howard Hibbard, and another art book, something about Neo-Expressionism. I can't be arsed to look up every book this pretentious nerd would read ]
ii
We use our indoor voices to question the reality of our surroundings.
[ Hello, John, have a New Yorker in a crisp black sweater and a trench coat, a fedora perched at a rakish angle on his head and somehow managing to look good instead of ridiculous. He's wearing incongruously big stompy boots. The only other sign that these aren't his clothes is the fact that his jeans are a little too short.
In his arms, a photography book titled The Metropolitan Museum of Art by Howard Hibbard, and another art book, something about Neo-Expressionism.
I can't be arsed to look up every book this pretentious nerd would read]Let me guess. You're new.