The sound of the duct tape was comforting. The feel of it
coming off the roll was reassuring, like shaking hands with an old friend. He
wrapped it around the unconscious man’s mouth, an action as familiar as tying
the laces on his favorite pair of shoes. After that, he duct taped the man’s
hands and feet together while humming a little ditty. His sunshine demeanor
contrasted with their subterranean surroundings. The man, bloody and beaten,
was lying on the cold cement. Despite the presence of his familiar friend, the
duct tape, the new surroundings made him uncomfortable, and mad.
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