Write Off; battle five
Write Off; battle five
Who: Ethan
Where: America - Denver
What: Write Off prompt; A song from the new Alison Krauss album
What days have come to keep us far apart
A broken promise or a broken heart
Now all the bonny birds have wheeled away
I need you at the dimming of the day
Dimming of the day - Alison Krauss
He’s been driving all night and late into the day since he left Spokane, barely stopping long enough to grab a bite to eat before he set off again. Finally he has to give in and pulls over into the entrance of the ratty road side motel at the side of interstate 25. In the blackness of midnight the garish neon lights of the motel had made it seem to float in a sea of nothingness. Like a long forgotten beacon luring weary travellers in. The intermittent flickering stars beneath the sign, which proclaims JACUZZI IN EVERY ROOM! GREAT RATES! CONTINENTAL BREAKFAST AVAILABLE, are nothing to do with the actual rating. He’s never heard of or seen a seven star rating for a shitty, rundown motel before but then again there is a first for everything.
The parking lot of potholed and there are only two others cars, one of which is haphazardly parked over the disabled days by the reception. Ethan takes it to mean that it must be owned by the guy who is sat, disinterested as he leafs through a well thumbed magazine behind the reception desk.
“You want it for the night or for a few hours?” The guy peers around Ethan’s shoulder, obviously to see if he has a hooker with him. Ethan doesn’t and he takes the room for the night, paying extra to have cable though he probably won’t want to watch anything.
The sun is sitting low on the horizon; skimming the curve of the earth and making the landscape shimmer and waver. Not that Ethan is really paying attention as he shoulders open the door to his room and ditches his bags by the corner of the bed. It’s not exactly desirable, the wallpaper is peeling in the corners and there are damp stains that are starting to bloom like flowers across the ceiling. The bed, despite the state of the rest of the room, isn’t so bad. The top sheet looks a little worn and grubby but there are no questionable stains. Still Ethan keeps his clothes on as he sprawls on his back, eyes closed and shutting out the world.
It's not quite dawn yet when Ethan wakes, gazing blearily at his watch as he brings his arm up to peer at. Slowly he sits up and yawns, stretching and listening to the snap, pop of the cartilage and bones in his body. They’d been forced into one position for pretty much seventeen hours straight yesterday; it can’t be good for his body despite the level of fitness because his muscles are protesting.
Dragging his bag that had been ditched yesterday at the foot of the bed Ethan rummages, pulling out a t-shirt, a pair of socks and boxers and a clean pair of jeans. He’s still dressed in his uniform, probably why the guy at the desk had asked if he wanted an hourly rate, most of the soldiers when let off of camp go in search of a good time. Stumbling, still half asleep he heads into the bathroom, blinking rapidly at the harsh neon lighting.
The pipes clank and protest but finally surrender luke warm water for Ethan to shower with and he feels a little more awake when he drops back onto the bed, shrugging on his hoody and reaching into the pockets. His fingers curl around the cell he’d switched off around lunchtime yesterday, unprepared to answer the calls and unwilling to listen to the constant ringing or the buzz as it vibrated across the bench seat. He switches it on and within moment it hums to signal he’s got messages, missed calls and voice messages.
Flicking his cell open Ethan ignores the texts for the moment and brings the cell to his ear as he listens to the voice message inbox. There are twenty-one new messages, the first four are all from Angel, just her sobbing into the phone and varying degrees of pleading and the next six are Angel again interspersed with Mac gradually getting more and more concerned with each message and finally threatening to call his mother.
The eleventh message is Emma complaining that Ethan has vanished off camp and asking where the hell it is he has gone to. The next five are Jen Barq, The General and some military contacts returning his calls.
The final five are made up of his Momma telling him that the bed has been made up if he needs to come home, Noah instructing Ethan to call him as soon as he gets the message, Mac ranting that she’s spoken to Angel and that he better get his ass back here and talk to her or at least go home.
The penultimate message is Emma, tone softer now but still in control as she calmly tells Ethan to take his time but be a man and call her as soon as or at least Mac or his mother. And that she would deal with Angel for now but he needed to call. Please.
The last message is Angel, voice hoarse and thick with tears as she calmly tries to apologies. Explain what it was that he had seen between her and Vance and that the proposal was a shock and she hadn’t meant to hurt him like that. But would be please, please come back and talk to her please. Please.
Ethan thumbs the end key and drops the phone onto the bed as the scrubs at his face with his hands. Outside, beyond the window the sun glows in the east, orange and yellow and all the colours in between, lighting everything it touches and bathing the world in early morning warmth. He pushes up off of the bed, shouldering his bag once it’s packed and heading out the door back to his car. There are at least another eight hours to go till he gets to Lubbock but at least now Ethan feels a little more alive.
He’ll get there. Eventually.
Who: Ethan
Where: America - Denver
What: Write Off prompt; A song from the new Alison Krauss album
What days have come to keep us far apart
A broken promise or a broken heart
Now all the bonny birds have wheeled away
I need you at the dimming of the day
Dimming of the day - Alison Krauss
He’s been driving all night and late into the day since he left Spokane, barely stopping long enough to grab a bite to eat before he set off again. Finally he has to give in and pulls over into the entrance of the ratty road side motel at the side of interstate 25. In the blackness of midnight the garish neon lights of the motel had made it seem to float in a sea of nothingness. Like a long forgotten beacon luring weary travellers in. The intermittent flickering stars beneath the sign, which proclaims JACUZZI IN EVERY ROOM! GREAT RATES! CONTINENTAL BREAKFAST AVAILABLE, are nothing to do with the actual rating. He’s never heard of or seen a seven star rating for a shitty, rundown motel before but then again there is a first for everything.
The parking lot of potholed and there are only two others cars, one of which is haphazardly parked over the disabled days by the reception. Ethan takes it to mean that it must be owned by the guy who is sat, disinterested as he leafs through a well thumbed magazine behind the reception desk.
“You want it for the night or for a few hours?” The guy peers around Ethan’s shoulder, obviously to see if he has a hooker with him. Ethan doesn’t and he takes the room for the night, paying extra to have cable though he probably won’t want to watch anything.
The sun is sitting low on the horizon; skimming the curve of the earth and making the landscape shimmer and waver. Not that Ethan is really paying attention as he shoulders open the door to his room and ditches his bags by the corner of the bed. It’s not exactly desirable, the wallpaper is peeling in the corners and there are damp stains that are starting to bloom like flowers across the ceiling. The bed, despite the state of the rest of the room, isn’t so bad. The top sheet looks a little worn and grubby but there are no questionable stains. Still Ethan keeps his clothes on as he sprawls on his back, eyes closed and shutting out the world.
It's not quite dawn yet when Ethan wakes, gazing blearily at his watch as he brings his arm up to peer at. Slowly he sits up and yawns, stretching and listening to the snap, pop of the cartilage and bones in his body. They’d been forced into one position for pretty much seventeen hours straight yesterday; it can’t be good for his body despite the level of fitness because his muscles are protesting.
Dragging his bag that had been ditched yesterday at the foot of the bed Ethan rummages, pulling out a t-shirt, a pair of socks and boxers and a clean pair of jeans. He’s still dressed in his uniform, probably why the guy at the desk had asked if he wanted an hourly rate, most of the soldiers when let off of camp go in search of a good time. Stumbling, still half asleep he heads into the bathroom, blinking rapidly at the harsh neon lighting.
The pipes clank and protest but finally surrender luke warm water for Ethan to shower with and he feels a little more awake when he drops back onto the bed, shrugging on his hoody and reaching into the pockets. His fingers curl around the cell he’d switched off around lunchtime yesterday, unprepared to answer the calls and unwilling to listen to the constant ringing or the buzz as it vibrated across the bench seat. He switches it on and within moment it hums to signal he’s got messages, missed calls and voice messages.
Flicking his cell open Ethan ignores the texts for the moment and brings the cell to his ear as he listens to the voice message inbox. There are twenty-one new messages, the first four are all from Angel, just her sobbing into the phone and varying degrees of pleading and the next six are Angel again interspersed with Mac gradually getting more and more concerned with each message and finally threatening to call his mother.
The eleventh message is Emma complaining that Ethan has vanished off camp and asking where the hell it is he has gone to. The next five are Jen Barq, The General and some military contacts returning his calls.
The final five are made up of his Momma telling him that the bed has been made up if he needs to come home, Noah instructing Ethan to call him as soon as he gets the message, Mac ranting that she’s spoken to Angel and that he better get his ass back here and talk to her or at least go home.
The penultimate message is Emma, tone softer now but still in control as she calmly tells Ethan to take his time but be a man and call her as soon as or at least Mac or his mother. And that she would deal with Angel for now but he needed to call. Please.
The last message is Angel, voice hoarse and thick with tears as she calmly tries to apologies. Explain what it was that he had seen between her and Vance and that the proposal was a shock and she hadn’t meant to hurt him like that. But would be please, please come back and talk to her please. Please.
Ethan thumbs the end key and drops the phone onto the bed as the scrubs at his face with his hands. Outside, beyond the window the sun glows in the east, orange and yellow and all the colours in between, lighting everything it touches and bathing the world in early morning warmth. He pushes up off of the bed, shouldering his bag once it’s packed and heading out the door back to his car. There are at least another eight hours to go till he gets to Lubbock but at least now Ethan feels a little more alive.
He’ll get there. Eventually.