(no subject)
There was a Henry McCoy in the bar.
There was a Henry McCoy in the bar, watching the Door, and thinking.
The door usually didn't show up until it was time for him to go, time to live out another piece of his life. He had never figured out why, or by what standards it worked, or what it was that made it open or close. But it kept happening this way. Bound for a few weeks, then back home for a new adventure, then back again. And sometimes, he wondered why he went back. People seemed to need him, but... did they, really?
Whatever the case, he wasn't quite ready to go, however, so he sat there and watched the door, a little edgy, and a lot thoughtful.
There was a Henry McCoy in the bar, watching the Door, and thinking.
The door usually didn't show up until it was time for him to go, time to live out another piece of his life. He had never figured out why, or by what standards it worked, or what it was that made it open or close. But it kept happening this way. Bound for a few weeks, then back home for a new adventure, then back again. And sometimes, he wondered why he went back. People seemed to need him, but... did they, really?
Whatever the case, he wasn't quite ready to go, however, so he sat there and watched the door, a little edgy, and a lot thoughtful.