Room 407; Friday Evening [ 03/06 ].

[not_a_mused]

After a pretty boring day at work (he'd actually finished up a book; that had to be a record), Cal cleaned up and went back to his room to do something even more productive: laying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, and occasionally throwing a random red rubber ball up toward it. He caught it easily enough with his hand, but, then again, he wasn't even tossing it up that high, so it wasn't that impressive.

Productiveness was for losers.

[[ I am oddly bored and braindead and distracted, door and post are ooooopen ]]