The Elsewhere Affair 20

[svetlanacat6]

 

 

The smile faded. The lips tightened. Napoleon put his hand on his friend's arm. “Help me, Illya. Please, help me.”

The Russian's fingers brushed almost imperceptibly his temple before resting on his shoulder. “It's what I've been doing for days...”

Napoleon wrenched himself free and stood up. For days? He banged his fist on the pedestal, immediately cursing at himself. How stupid...

He froze. Every knuckles hurt. He could feel scratches... he didn't see. No bruises, just pain.

“Napoleon...The caravan of digits that is pi Does not stop at the edge of the page But runs off the table...”