(no subject)
When Wendy and I met, we were right on the edge of that age where you still play kid-games and still watch cartoons but you're just beginning to lose your innocence. Well, that's pretty much bullshit for me, 'cause I lost my innocence long before I met Wendy, and I sorta suspect I snatched away any she might've had left. But that first summer, after our last Halloween and after Wendy's teenage fugitive fantasies died out, there was an old gnarled tree on the outskirts of the abandoned playground that she and I used to climb. The limbs were old and kind of rickety at the top, and the only time I ever had to wear a wrist splint happened fallin' outta that damn thing, but there was a low limb that curved out from the trunk that made a perfect bench seat.
Yeah, I know. Hard to believe I have such a normal childhood memory, but there it is. Now, you can be damned sure the shit we talked about and got up to wasn't all that innocent, but those memories are some of the most normal and happy that I have. It only lasted a summer, like so much other shit in my life, and by the time she turned thirteen and I turned twelve, we'd both abandoned the tree for other things.
So, it's been a while since I did any tree climbing, and I don't know where I get the urge from now. I found one not far off from the compound, with a good view of the path. I sit straddling a limb, my back against the trunk and an open paperback on my knee. The cover is missin', just like I remembered, and while I never actually read these books, Wendy told me enough about 'em that I almost feel like I already did. The adventures of Charles Starkweather and Caril Anne Fugate, and they're fucking awful. I swear, I could write better shit than this, but Wendy loved 'em and the bookcase figured I should too.
There's plenty I miss, and there's even more I don't, but right now I'm not worrying much about all that. It's not peace, really, 'cause no matter how much I try, I can't have the kind of life I thought he could give me. Maybe I'll always be lookin', but right now, maybe I'm too fucking grateful that I have my dick back to really care.
Yeah, that's it.
[OOC: He's up in a tree. Visible from the path. The book he's reading exists only in his canon, and is about the exploits of too teenage fugitives, cutting a path across the midwest much like Bonnie and Clyde. Open to all. Late tags/slowtime welcome. He's bored, and so am I. Entertain us.]
Yeah, I know. Hard to believe I have such a normal childhood memory, but there it is. Now, you can be damned sure the shit we talked about and got up to wasn't all that innocent, but those memories are some of the most normal and happy that I have. It only lasted a summer, like so much other shit in my life, and by the time she turned thirteen and I turned twelve, we'd both abandoned the tree for other things.
So, it's been a while since I did any tree climbing, and I don't know where I get the urge from now. I found one not far off from the compound, with a good view of the path. I sit straddling a limb, my back against the trunk and an open paperback on my knee. The cover is missin', just like I remembered, and while I never actually read these books, Wendy told me enough about 'em that I almost feel like I already did. The adventures of Charles Starkweather and Caril Anne Fugate, and they're fucking awful. I swear, I could write better shit than this, but Wendy loved 'em and the bookcase figured I should too.
There's plenty I miss, and there's even more I don't, but right now I'm not worrying much about all that. It's not peace, really, 'cause no matter how much I try, I can't have the kind of life I thought he could give me. Maybe I'll always be lookin', but right now, maybe I'm too fucking grateful that I have my dick back to really care.
Yeah, that's it.
[OOC: He's up in a tree. Visible from the path. The book he's reading exists only in his canon, and is about the exploits of too teenage fugitives, cutting a path across the midwest much like Bonnie and Clyde. Open to all. Late tags/slowtime welcome. He's bored, and so am I. Entertain us.]