(no subject)
A week to go, a week to go... That's the refrain that's been echoing through Bela's head all day. A week to go until her "one year to go" countdown.
She can't take much more of this, except she can and she will. She simply doesn't want to. The fucking door to Milliways finally showed up earlier tonight, and she slipped in to claim her usual booth. She's in black yoga pants and a blue cami; she hasn't left her flat in the last few days. Her leather jacket tops off her outfit, its pockets loaded down with the accouterments one needs to fight off demons of various walks of un-life.
She's on her second martini, but what the hell (no pun intended)? Come say hi.
She can't take much more of this, except she can and she will. She simply doesn't want to. The fucking door to Milliways finally showed up earlier tonight, and she slipped in to claim her usual booth. She's in black yoga pants and a blue cami; she hasn't left her flat in the last few days. Her leather jacket tops off her outfit, its pockets loaded down with the accouterments one needs to fight off demons of various walks of un-life.
She's on her second martini, but what the hell (no pun intended)? Come say hi.