“You know how he is, always flitting about. You’re just jealous he can go places.”
Rock was angry. They only met four times a year to hold this meeting but every single quarter Paper arrived long after the scheduled time. Rock shifted back and forth, the seat creaking under his weight. Scissors, for some reason, was always so patient. He just sat there, trimming his nails, unconcerned about anything. I wish he was more afraid of me, Rock thought. I mean, he knows that I could squish him like a bug.