cable walter crow horse/ray levoi stories

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A fiction by thecarlysutra posted on commaful. see the rest: https://archiveofourown.o...


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, but translates literally to

. As in

. As in

Ray’s knuckles are bruised, and his nose is broken. The disjointed cartilage swells his face, and his skin is crusty with blood; he can’t recognize himself in the mirror.

Ray washes off the blood in the dim, dirty bathroom of his hotel room, the radiator on the wall rusty and groaning, the wallpaper peeling and unclean.

The sink is the old-fashioned kind, a porcelain bowl on top of a skinny pipe, and Ray wonders how old the building is.

The water in the sink is probably red, but one of the bulbs in the overhead light is broken, leaving him in such shadows that the water is dark, but without color.

Everything is monochrome; Ray sees things in shades of grey.

The mirror above the sink is fractured, and Ray watches his reflection bend as he takes the damaged cartilage in his thumb and forefinger and twists, setting his broken nose. It hurts.

It hurts so much Ray’s mouth goes dry; his head swims.

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