140Story - Day 33

  I'm writing a story 140 words at a time and posting the results here daily.  Can I sustain interest?  Will I lose the narrative thread?  Find out in this next installment of Bullets Ain't Cheap

   It was him.  Kelly.  Or a version of him.  I recognized the eyes, the blue irises with a darker ring on the outside.  And the crinkles at the edges that only got deeper as time went on.
    But that was it.  If I hadn’t heard his voice and seen his eyes I would never have guessed this was Kelly.  He was thin, almost emaciated, and his brown hair was long and greasy.  He hadn’t shaved or groomed his beard in any way, and his skin looked unhealthy, like a person who’d been in the hospital too long.  Or a homeless person, which is what I suspected he’d become.
    “We need to get away from here,” he said, almost a whisper.  His eyes darted around, trying to take in everything all at once.
    I’d seen this before, the hyper-awareness.  I’d