(no subject)
Jim had told Pam to come by earlier that day. It seemed as good a time as any for her to see if she needed anything from the art supplies, and with Sam off being babysat, it meant it'd be all the easier to get through it without too much interruption. He had a feeling she wouldn't want to dwell in there too long and, honestly, neither did he.
The thought of it being wrong to give away Pam's stuff still nagged him in the back of his mind. Logically, he knew the stuff could be used for far better purposes than to just sit there forever, but he still wasn't sure if it was like him trying to replace her or something. That he'd been getting all too familiar feelings more and more lately didn't really help things.
Lingering in the room for a moment as he waited for her to show up, he could almost see her in the corner, drawing into the wee hours of the night, cheek smudged with paint. He walked over to pick up the canvas that had been sitting on the easel since the day she disappeared. She'd only halfway finished the piece of art, and he hesitated to put it down, running his fingers along the long since dried paint. He didn't realize someone was knocking until what was probably the third try of it, and he glanced toward the door.
"It's open," he called out, loud enough for who he guessed was Pam could hear. It was probably better something pulled him out of his thoughts anyway.
The thought of it being wrong to give away Pam's stuff still nagged him in the back of his mind. Logically, he knew the stuff could be used for far better purposes than to just sit there forever, but he still wasn't sure if it was like him trying to replace her or something. That he'd been getting all too familiar feelings more and more lately didn't really help things.
Lingering in the room for a moment as he waited for her to show up, he could almost see her in the corner, drawing into the wee hours of the night, cheek smudged with paint. He walked over to pick up the canvas that had been sitting on the easel since the day she disappeared. She'd only halfway finished the piece of art, and he hesitated to put it down, running his fingers along the long since dried paint. He didn't realize someone was knocking until what was probably the third try of it, and he glanced toward the door.
"It's open," he called out, loud enough for who he guessed was Pam could hear. It was probably better something pulled him out of his thoughts anyway.