(no subject)
Any passing individual who had happened to follow Leon's path over the last hour would have come away baffled. He had left the Compound that morning, determination in his step and calm resolve in his outward expression. Then, at a seemingly random point, something in his expression had faltered. He had turned back the way he came, had taken a few steps, then turned forward, then turned back. He had repeated the process nearly a dozen times. One of those times he had had it halfway back to the Compound,
It was the sight of the Turner house in the distance that had done it. For the first time in months - no, years - he was seeking out Robbie Turner, and he had a fairly good idea of where to find him. He, Leon Tallis, who had always avoided the difficult and brushed off all blame, was facing the music, as the saying went. But he hadn't much experience with such things.
Setting his jaw, he approached the house, but he stopped in front of the door. Here he was. He had made it this far, but knocking, speaking the apologies and the professions of idiocy that were clamoring to escape, that was different. That was another matter entirely.
It was the sight of the Turner house in the distance that had done it. For the first time in months - no, years - he was seeking out Robbie Turner, and he had a fairly good idea of where to find him. He, Leon Tallis, who had always avoided the difficult and brushed off all blame, was facing the music, as the saying went. But he hadn't much experience with such things.
Setting his jaw, he approached the house, but he stopped in front of the door. Here he was. He had made it this far, but knocking, speaking the apologies and the professions of idiocy that were clamoring to escape, that was different. That was another matter entirely.