Sep 18, 2011 00:53
[Patroclus was beginning to think that moving to New York had been the biggest mistake of this mortal life. Part of him wanted to scurry home, tail between his legs. Maybe he could join the army and be what he had always been: a soldier, given to following orders. (Maybe he sold himself short with that very thought.)
The weather - or the weathers - played havoc with his ability to do his job. He could hardly be a soothing influence on the criminally insane when he was too hot or too cold or too windswept. It was hard to explain why, on Friday, he had been soaking wet on arrival at the hospital. An overhead pipe that burst suddenly was his only excuse.
To make matters worse, his wife had not yet returned. Sasha was due to start school and a terse email from Patroclus' wife informed him that she had enrolled Sasha in school in Arizona until Christmas, at least. It was too much. He missed her but he was ashamed to admit that he missed his sons so much more. She had taken them away from him, for this term at least, and the one person he could have turned to didn't want to talk to him.]
Singing in the Rain just came on the television. I can just make it out through the haze of heat and I've never wanted to slap Gene Kelly more in my life.
patroclus,
!event #010,
!mini-log,
pheme,
briseis