(no subject)
It's a hot night. The hottest in weeks. Every fan and air conditioner in the town is set to full blast, struggling weakly against the oppressive heat. Almost every house has the windows shut and the artificial cooling struggling to keep up. Every house, that is, but one. Sitting at his desk with the window open, Mordecai slouches in his seat and tries to make his eyes focus on the textbook in front of him. He's no fan of attending school, especially because so many kids his age have already dropped out to begin working, but he feels some obligation to go. Maybe it's because he's the only child of two strict parents, or maybe it's just because he doesn't like work, but either way he's stuck with a test the next day and no desire at all to study.
"Who even needs to study friggin' starcharts?" Slamming his heavy book closed, Mordecai buries his head in his hands and runs his fingers through his (in need of a cut) hair. Bloodwing is asleep in his cage, a dirty t-shirt draped over it to keep the light from the lamp from waking the bird. Glancing out the window at the lights, both those above and those down below, Mordecai thumbs his fingers over the cover of the book, trying to work up some interest in the work within. When nothing of the sort bubbles up, he sighs and flips the tomb open again anyways.
Not like he has anything better to do.
"Who even needs to study friggin' starcharts?" Slamming his heavy book closed, Mordecai buries his head in his hands and runs his fingers through his (in need of a cut) hair. Bloodwing is asleep in his cage, a dirty t-shirt draped over it to keep the light from the lamp from waking the bird. Glancing out the window at the lights, both those above and those down below, Mordecai thumbs his fingers over the cover of the book, trying to work up some interest in the work within. When nothing of the sort bubbles up, he sighs and flips the tomb open again anyways.
Not like he has anything better to do.