The Apartment Above The Boards, Sunday Evening
Curry. Tonight, Jono had decided, as he set up his room with company in mind and flipped through the phone book for local restaurants, was a good night for curry.
Once upon a time, so help him, he used to like curry. And then there had been years without a mouth, and now this, and he was effectively staring down at his dish and nudging a piece of broccoli that was a little too spicy for comfort around with a fork.
"I'm going to get through this," he intoned, glancing up from his plate. "I swear it."
If it killed him, damn it. If it killed him.
[For that girl!]
Once upon a time, so help him, he used to like curry. And then there had been years without a mouth, and now this, and he was effectively staring down at his dish and nudging a piece of broccoli that was a little too spicy for comfort around with a fork.
"I'm going to get through this," he intoned, glancing up from his plate. "I swear it."
If it killed him, damn it. If it killed him.
[For that girl!]