Thread:Vox and the Vendetta/@comment-27624831-20180104001552/@comment-34052734-20180327011955

Uriah snored quietly. He was out cold.

David turned back to his book, his glasses slipping again. He huffed, closing his book and placing it on the desk. He touched the bridge of his glasses back to the bone of his nose. “I need new glasses,” he said out in the open.