Laundry Room; Monday Evening
Travis had put his laundry off for as long as he could. Finally, he'd been down to his last pair of jeans and the oldest white tee shirt that he had. It was worn, battered and hanging on by a thread. It'd been his before he'd died so Jeremy Pratt's bigger, taller body was stretching it so laundry time it was.
The laundry room was empty and quiet when he walked in and tossed his bag up on top of a washer. He spent a few seconds trying to remember how to wash his clothes without 1) shrinking everything 2) bleaching them and 3) turning them colors they shouldn't have been. But, he didn't need to call his mother so he considered that an accomplishment. The clothes got tossed into the washer and voilà, he was done. Or, well, he'd gotten started with minimal pain.
Travis hopped up on an empty washer and put his earbuds in and turned his iPod on. When the music started up, Travis started air drumming against his knee. He kicked his feet lightly against the washer and even rocked his head back and forth with the beat.
Amazing the things you'd do when you were alone. But, the music was good and he was feeling okay so might as well loosen up a little, right?
Just be glad he wasn't singing. Yet.
[Open, natch. And now with correct labeling!]
The laundry room was empty and quiet when he walked in and tossed his bag up on top of a washer. He spent a few seconds trying to remember how to wash his clothes without 1) shrinking everything 2) bleaching them and 3) turning them colors they shouldn't have been. But, he didn't need to call his mother so he considered that an accomplishment. The clothes got tossed into the washer and voilà, he was done. Or, well, he'd gotten started with minimal pain.
Travis hopped up on an empty washer and put his earbuds in and turned his iPod on. When the music started up, Travis started air drumming against his knee. He kicked his feet lightly against the washer and even rocked his head back and forth with the beat.
Amazing the things you'd do when you were alone. But, the music was good and he was feeling okay so might as well loosen up a little, right?
Just be glad he wasn't singing. Yet.
[Open, natch. And now with correct labeling!]