ART CREDIT - sid-sn on tumblr

Chest heaving at each individual, laboured breath, Easterman sat - spread - at his desk. Nose dripping with blood, down his chin and into his bony hand.

The other hand, a cigarette. The blunt lit and smoking, no window or door open to free the grey smoke; ash flicked carelessly onto a dirty tray found amongst the fray and stacks of endlessly piling paperwork.

His thin lips parting with each breath taken. Red eyes shut, but not tightly. Surprisingly, for the director, relaxed.