(no subject)
Date: Fall 2005
Characters: Zach Teller, Charlie Andrews
Summary: Zach goes for a drive.. meets some people, gets some toast.
Status: In progress
Private sorta, unless you're in Midland
So Zach... was dangerous behind the wheel of a car. Not because he got lost (he couldn't, technically), or ran people off the road or speeded excessively. No. That wasn't it. It was because.. It was because he would just drive and drive and it wouldn't matter where it was just.. an escape.
Problem was... he forgot to check his gas gauge periodically, and these was one of those times.
So here he was, hating himself and hating Texas and missing home but missing Claire, too. And he had reached Midland. That was it. Before Bertha had run out.
He had pulled into a parking lot somehow, splayed awkwardly across 3 spaces. "Burnt Toast Diner" an old sign proudly proclaimed.
"I would like some burnt toast," he muttered crossly, stepping up to the counter where a perky looking blonde was conversing with a customer on a bar stool. "The nearest service station?" he asked, even though he really didn't feel like walking whatever distance it was.
Fucking Midland. Fucking Texas.
Characters: Zach Teller, Charlie Andrews
Summary: Zach goes for a drive.. meets some people, gets some toast.
Status: In progress
Private sorta, unless you're in Midland
So Zach... was dangerous behind the wheel of a car. Not because he got lost (he couldn't, technically), or ran people off the road or speeded excessively. No. That wasn't it. It was because.. It was because he would just drive and drive and it wouldn't matter where it was just.. an escape.
Problem was... he forgot to check his gas gauge periodically, and these was one of those times.
So here he was, hating himself and hating Texas and missing home but missing Claire, too. And he had reached Midland. That was it. Before Bertha had run out.
He had pulled into a parking lot somehow, splayed awkwardly across 3 spaces. "Burnt Toast Diner" an old sign proudly proclaimed.
"I would like some burnt toast," he muttered crossly, stepping up to the counter where a perky looking blonde was conversing with a customer on a bar stool. "The nearest service station?" he asked, even though he really didn't feel like walking whatever distance it was.
Fucking Midland. Fucking Texas.