Apr 03, 2008 16:25
If you couldn't depend on anything, you fell back on habits you couldn't break. You put your left shoe on before your right. You brushed your teeth at the same time every day. You told your wife that you loved her every time you left a room. You put the same things in your pocket every morning. You ran.
You did what you could, to make yourself feel like a normal person. A normal person who believed in luck.
When they tortured you, when they locked you in the dark and kept you there, you did what you could. You recited poetry. You recited the name of every girl that you ever kissed. You kept fit. You did something. It wasn't dark, here, and it wasn't ideal, but Adam pulled himself up on a branch, and he counted. He sweated and counted and he kept getting stuck on Fiona and going back to the beginning.
He ws going to get there if it killed him.
He was going to be alright if he had to beat himself into it.
His muscles screamed, and he started again.
His first kiss had been a girl named Abigail, in Paris, and he'd been nine years old.
ooc: Adam's exercising in front of the compound, and all manner of Ts are welcome.
mike pinocchio,
sarah carter,
ros myers,
adam carter,
angela montenegro,
coraline jones