(Untitled)

Mar 26, 2007 18:39

Elan wanted to wash his hands. He could feel the blood and dirt beneath his nails and all he could think of was removing it. The dirt and blood covered him up to his elbows, and his jeans were stained. He walked as if a puppet, eyes staring forward unseeingly ( Read more... )

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shelley_winters March 26 2007, 23:54:00 UTC
Funny, how you can think you're used to something, then be so shocked by the sight of it that you drop whatever you're holding.

In Shelley's case, that was a cup of tea, now spilling across the kitchen floor as she stares through the doorway at her unwanted and bloodstained houseguest.

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always_a_liar March 26 2007, 23:58:05 UTC
Carefully shutting the door, Elan turned and trudged towards the kitchen to wash his hands. Seeing Shelley, he commented rather distantly.

"The kittens I had been feeding were killed by a dog."

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shelley_winters March 27 2007, 00:05:13 UTC
Shelley steps back as he approaches to let him walk by, still staring, and resisting the automatic urge to run away.

Tea trickles sadly against the sole of her shoe.

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always_a_liar March 27 2007, 22:43:20 UTC
His head felt thick. No thinking clearly until he removed the dirt and blood from his hands ( ... )

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