The occasional blog

Shortstory

  • Tue, Dec 18, 2012 Parallels

    Munic hurried along the dimly lit corridors of the C-wing of the Neutrino lab. It was past midnight, and Munic had received an alert on his phone sent by one of the monitoring terminals. His palms and brows were trickling sweat, despite it being an unusually cold night. His off-white Oxford shirt was unevenly buttoned and lazily tuck, but he didn't seem to notice, or for that matter, care personal shortstory