Theatrical Muse 331 Talk about something you used to love.
I don’t know. There must be something.
It was St Patrick’s Day not long ago and almost everyone in the bar was saying that they loved Ireland. Most of them were the kind of guys who’d have taken it as a deadly insult if someone had offered them a one-way ticket “home”.
I didn’t love Ireland, not back when I lived there. If I had I suppose I’d have stayed. I didn’t love the Green Card, either, although I wanted it, all right. I loved Harriet - well, I thought I did. I suppose it was partly being young, but I still think that I loved her.
There was a lot that I loved, back then, though I’m not sure that I thought so at the time. I loved teaching. There’s a smell that goes with a school - with a primary school, anyway. It’s a complex blend of odours and maybe I’d appreciate it more now; my senses sharpened when I turned 21.
There’s always chalk in that smell, somewhere. There’s a feeling that went with that scent in the air.
I loved knowing what to do, and being called Mr Doyle, and having a future I suppose it was a bit like having a vocation or something. Anyway I’ve got a vocation now, in a way. I’m a seer and I love single-malt whisky.
Times change and we change with them.
Muse; Doyle
Fandom. Angel the Series.
Words, 228
It was St Patrick’s Day not long ago and almost everyone in the bar was saying that they loved Ireland. Most of them were the kind of guys who’d have taken it as a deadly insult if someone had offered them a one-way ticket “home”.
I didn’t love Ireland, not back when I lived there. If I had I suppose I’d have stayed. I didn’t love the Green Card, either, although I wanted it, all right. I loved Harriet - well, I thought I did. I suppose it was partly being young, but I still think that I loved her.
There was a lot that I loved, back then, though I’m not sure that I thought so at the time. I loved teaching. There’s a smell that goes with a school - with a primary school, anyway. It’s a complex blend of odours and maybe I’d appreciate it more now; my senses sharpened when I turned 21.
There’s always chalk in that smell, somewhere. There’s a feeling that went with that scent in the air.
I loved knowing what to do, and being called Mr Doyle, and having a future I suppose it was a bit like having a vocation or something. Anyway I’ve got a vocation now, in a way. I’m a seer and I love single-malt whisky.
Times change and we change with them.
Muse; Doyle
Fandom. Angel the Series.
Words, 228