( … continued) SCENE: Warehouse near End of the Line Tavern. Prosby rubbed his head, wincing at the  pain from the  wound on the side of his head. He  was cold on the concrete slab floor. He wasn’t restrained. “Again Mr. Prosby, may I offer you some water, or perhaps something stronger?” The woman appeared … Continue reading Hurricanes and hisicanes of the future (Pt. 4)