Jono's Room, The Apartment Above the Boards, Sunday Morning
You know, under most other occasions, Jono would probably count himself thankful that he had only seen one day of weirdness during a week where it had apparently hit the island in fits and starts. One day as opposed to a handful was a definite upside. Far less opportunity for him to make an arse of himself, after all. And once he'd been hit, being turned into a leather-clad rock-and-roll greaser with an American accent wasn't exactly as horrible as it could have been. So... he didn't have cause to complain.
Really.
And he was going to tell himself that a few more times as he stared up at the ceiling from under the covers, clad only in a single sock that hadn't quite found its way to the floor, wondering if crawling out of bed and getting dressed was worth taking the risk that he'd wake the lady sleeping there, or not.
Rip off the bandage, get it over with, and hopefully throw on some trousers in the process? Or put off that potentially very awkward morning after?
Life was hard.
[For one!]
Really.
And he was going to tell himself that a few more times as he stared up at the ceiling from under the covers, clad only in a single sock that hadn't quite found its way to the floor, wondering if crawling out of bed and getting dressed was worth taking the risk that he'd wake the lady sleeping there, or not.
Rip off the bandage, get it over with, and hopefully throw on some trousers in the process? Or put off that potentially very awkward morning after?
Life was hard.
[For one!]