( ... this wounded heart will rise and burn my shadows away )

His fingers were itching.

Aching, really. Not unlike the way that one's joints ached in the middle of the winter time, when the muscles restricted by bitter cold. It was a deep sort of ache, bone-deep. Alarming. If he focused on it long enough, it left him feeling rather on the urge of panic ( Read more... )

[Fabulous~ the sun is shining bright today, casting large, warm patches of sun across the ground. It's the perfect day to fish a little, smoke a little, and maybe catch a poker game or two.]

[Except. Not having opposable thumbs makes fishing difficult, smoking impossible, poker? Well. That's best left for another day.]

[...]

[Well damn. At least ( Read more... )

Rain.

Calm, cleansing, relaxing. Rain.It was coming down hard; almost blinding, and very nearly deafening. But he wouldn't have had it any other way. It reminded him of Barcelona, when he happened across that Exorcist with the dunce cap and soccer ball. What had his name been? Daisya Barry? Such a mouthy young lad ( Read more... )

( I know it must be the killing time )