inside mongolia yurt; monday afternoon
Flick had a pounding headache. He hadn't really moved from his futon (seriously, a futon) since he'd woken up save to get some water and strip out of his shirt because this place had no air conditioning and it was stupid hot outside already.
He guessed that being a graduate and having a job that required him to show up once a week was a boon in situations like this but Flick couldn't really see any benefits right now. He wanted his bed back or, better yet, he wanted to be in New York where he could have space and duck into a dive that sold excellent pizza.
Instead, he was propped up on his futon, eyes closed and arm thrown over said eyes to keep the light out. At least they'd manage to build the thing yesterday so no one was sleeping outside.
Flick picked his phone up and sent a text to Joi.
sleeping in a yurt. how are you doing?
When Joi texted him back, it said: hahahahahaha.
Flick scowled and put his phone down beside him. He disliked yurts.
[Open to those inside the tent, of course.]
He guessed that being a graduate and having a job that required him to show up once a week was a boon in situations like this but Flick couldn't really see any benefits right now. He wanted his bed back or, better yet, he wanted to be in New York where he could have space and duck into a dive that sold excellent pizza.
Instead, he was propped up on his futon, eyes closed and arm thrown over said eyes to keep the light out. At least they'd manage to build the thing yesterday so no one was sleeping outside.
Flick picked his phone up and sent a text to Joi.
sleeping in a yurt. how are you doing?
When Joi texted him back, it said: hahahahahaha.
Flick scowled and put his phone down beside him. He disliked yurts.
[Open to those inside the tent, of course.]