"Prone" sounds so condemning...
[Neb preferred to not say he was "prone" to solitude, "prone" to do strange things in the cover of nighttime, or "prone" to brooding. Hell, this can't even be considered brooding - he's too happy. Well, not happy. He's okay; he's fair. The knowledge of this deserted hotel swimming pool had been tempting him all week ever since he first noticed it during a stroll to the convenience store up the street. It didn't and still doesn't appear to have some kind of strict monitor or security method. It's a simple matter of hoisting himself over the iron fence and stripping down to his boxer shorts. (Retail store bought; pattern of red lobsters against seersucker backdrop. They've gotten him laid before.)
He lost his swim trunks. Except that's a lie. He was too damn lazy to look for them.
The light in the water shifts with the small and steady undulations of the liquid; it stings his eyes, which were already accustomed to the darkness of midnight. He glances about to confirm his isolation. A horn blares in the distance and he twists the waistband of his underwear somewhat nervously. Out of no where, he wishes that he put some effort into exercising. He's far from pudgy, but definitely cuddly.
He exhales and approaches the water. His toes wiggle over the edge. Cannonball. Yes. No. Dive. Inevitable concussion. Flailing leap. Too tired.
So he lowers himself, settles his butt on the concrete, and slides into the water. He suspends. He looks upward. No stars.]
I...feel like a dumb ass.
He lost his swim trunks. Except that's a lie. He was too damn lazy to look for them.
The light in the water shifts with the small and steady undulations of the liquid; it stings his eyes, which were already accustomed to the darkness of midnight. He glances about to confirm his isolation. A horn blares in the distance and he twists the waistband of his underwear somewhat nervously. Out of no where, he wishes that he put some effort into exercising. He's far from pudgy, but definitely cuddly.
He exhales and approaches the water. His toes wiggle over the edge. Cannonball. Yes. No. Dive. Inevitable concussion. Flailing leap. Too tired.
So he lowers himself, settles his butt on the concrete, and slides into the water. He suspends. He looks upward. No stars.]
I...feel like a dumb ass.