(no subject)
Penny had spent the better part of four days laying low, spending more time on Doris than at the Compound. It was reminiscent, almost, in one of those darkly humorous ways, of the way she'd gone off to England after that first summer with Stillwater -- not running away, like she'd done with Morocco; this was better-intentioned, though for her own reasons and not because of any other woman. She'd even brought out her Stillwater things, for the first time since Halloween. As painful as it was, she figured it was also necessary, a reminder of the mistakes she shouldn't make, that she'd already made.
Finally, though, she snapped out of it, 'returned to the land of the living,' as Sapphire would have said. Four days of giving in to what the jukebox seemed to want her to hear, it was a relief to be greeted with her usual namesake when she walked into the rec room as if nothing had ever been wrong. She had always been good at that, after all.
Her green coat was slung over one arm, this time, but she wouldn't be without it, and for the first time in months, she was in Russell's pink shirt. For all she'd tried to keep things like they were before Russell and Stillwater here, it was sinking in more and more that she never would be able to, and so, she decided -- en route to the Compound, in fact -- that another semi-retirement was in order. He'd been right about her, after all; she'd never be able to give it up completely, but she could slow it down, to look out for herself just like the other times she'd claimed to be done.
"It's all happening," she murmured to herself as she took a seat on the couch, pursing her lips in a half-smile. She would be fine. She always was.
[It's late, but she demanded it. ST/LT & anyone at all welcome, as always.]
Finally, though, she snapped out of it, 'returned to the land of the living,' as Sapphire would have said. Four days of giving in to what the jukebox seemed to want her to hear, it was a relief to be greeted with her usual namesake when she walked into the rec room as if nothing had ever been wrong. She had always been good at that, after all.
Her green coat was slung over one arm, this time, but she wouldn't be without it, and for the first time in months, she was in Russell's pink shirt. For all she'd tried to keep things like they were before Russell and Stillwater here, it was sinking in more and more that she never would be able to, and so, she decided -- en route to the Compound, in fact -- that another semi-retirement was in order. He'd been right about her, after all; she'd never be able to give it up completely, but she could slow it down, to look out for herself just like the other times she'd claimed to be done.
"It's all happening," she murmured to herself as she took a seat on the couch, pursing her lips in a half-smile. She would be fine. She always was.
[It's late, but she demanded it. ST/LT & anyone at all welcome, as always.]