(no subject)
Today doesn't feel any different than any other day. He gets up early, gets his coffee, and instead of drinking it in the kitchen he takes it outside to the Compound steps, sits down on them and listens to the Island come awake.
He's never really got the point of birthdays. Other peoples', oddly enough, he has no trouble understanding the importance there, but his own... it just seems like a day to mark another period of survival, even now. Which he supposes is something to celebrate, but really, any day he wakes up to is good in that way.
It's all the same borrowed time.
He thinks about Florence and her book. He's looked through more of it since she found it. Things he honestly didn't want to see. The passing of The Simple Man will be eased by blood. At the narrowing of the ways the Warrior will widen them with His life. What had that even meant? Once he'd been sure he knew, now not so sure. But that doesn't silence the ticking in the back of his mind.
Borrowed time. He takes a sip of his coffee, black and scaldingly hot. Birds fall into and out of the treetops with raucous cries.
Thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six. It doesn't feel different than any other day or any other year. But he knows it is.
[ooc: it's Mike's 36th birthday but he doesn't feel like making a big deal out of it. or any deal at all, even. but come say hi. :D immediate ST while I go to work but i'll be back in an hour or so.]
He's never really got the point of birthdays. Other peoples', oddly enough, he has no trouble understanding the importance there, but his own... it just seems like a day to mark another period of survival, even now. Which he supposes is something to celebrate, but really, any day he wakes up to is good in that way.
It's all the same borrowed time.
He thinks about Florence and her book. He's looked through more of it since she found it. Things he honestly didn't want to see. The passing of The Simple Man will be eased by blood. At the narrowing of the ways the Warrior will widen them with His life. What had that even meant? Once he'd been sure he knew, now not so sure. But that doesn't silence the ticking in the back of his mind.
Borrowed time. He takes a sip of his coffee, black and scaldingly hot. Birds fall into and out of the treetops with raucous cries.
Thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six. It doesn't feel different than any other day or any other year. But he knows it is.
[ooc: it's Mike's 36th birthday but he doesn't feel like making a big deal out of it. or any deal at all, even. but come say hi. :D immediate ST while I go to work but i'll be back in an hour or so.]