passtime.

Liam's hands twitch, nervous, as they touch and slowly dismantle the pistol that lies before him; the two children are doing the same, touches light as butterflies.
"Time." Jila grunts, and hands are thrown to their owners' sides.
She prods the perfectly cleaned and dissembled guns the lay beneath the children's small shadows. Excuses are in the air before she can ever touch Liam's.
"They've got smaller hands, and she's right under the light-" He stops when Jila picks up the half-weapon and stares down the barrel.
"That's unlikely." She smiles. "Go."
The small girl's hands leap towards the pieces and in a mess of flutterings, reassembles the gun and points it towards Liam. He flinches, but not before he notices, for the first time, that the child's eyes are closed.
"H0w-?"
"The light is unlikely to help, Liam," Jila smiles, removing the gun from the child's outstretched hands, "because Cie is blind."