(no subject)
It doesn't take long to pack: she's good at it after all these years. Heaviest shit in the bottom of the backpack, Amp's precious cargo in the dead middle, easiest tradeable commodities at the top and in the outside pockets. Her camera and film aren't packed, though: she has a few pictures to take here first... and one goodbye. After she rolls up the sleeping bag and fixes it to the top of the pack, she nods: the quicker she does this, the easier it'll be. She gives that backpack an I'll see you in a little while, no partying while I'm gone look, takes the camera and film in her hand -- along with enough cans of beans and packs of cigarettes to pay her tab here, never mind what Beth said about that, she takes care of herself -- and closes the door behind her.
She'll be back for the hat and the jacket and the guns and the backpack. She'll straighten everything up and make the bed and fix the towels and all that shit, but after the rest of her business is done. Turning on her heel, she makes her way quickly down the hall.
She'll be back for the hat and the jacket and the guns and the backpack. She'll straighten everything up and make the bed and fix the towels and all that shit, but after the rest of her business is done. Turning on her heel, she makes her way quickly down the hall.