(no subject)
Never before in his entire time on the island had Lennox been hit with so many disappearances at once. He was depressed as all hell, lonely, and pretty damn angry at the whole situation, but he hadn't talked about it much. There wasn't much to say and not many people left to even say it to, which was why he was sitting on the beach surrounded by animals.
They never disappeared, it seemed.
Along with Hal and King, he was now taking care of Gordon, Emmy's dog, and Miguel's rabbit and cat. Although he'd left the rabbit back at the hut, the three dogs were with him, running up and down the beach, kicking up sand as they went.
The cat seemed a little less happy as he delicately lifted one front paw, giving Lennox a distinctly displeased look.
"Hey, I'm sorry, they wanted to go to the beach," he said, pointing at the dogs and giving the cat a light rub behind his ears.
Angelo made no response other than setting his paw down and lifting the other, looking extremely uncomfortable with the sand.
"I can't control what the dogs want to do, man," Lennox told him, leaning back on his elbows and wishing, not for the first time, that getting stoned would do for him what it used to. In the past few days, however, it didn't matter how many joints he smoked, he didn't feel good. He barely made it past feeling extremely shitty, no matter how stoned he was. As a coping mechanism, it seemed that pot had finally failed him.
"Look, just go back home, then," he said as Angelo meowed pitifully.
It was a sound that pretty much summed up how Lennox felt right about now.
They never disappeared, it seemed.
Along with Hal and King, he was now taking care of Gordon, Emmy's dog, and Miguel's rabbit and cat. Although he'd left the rabbit back at the hut, the three dogs were with him, running up and down the beach, kicking up sand as they went.
The cat seemed a little less happy as he delicately lifted one front paw, giving Lennox a distinctly displeased look.
"Hey, I'm sorry, they wanted to go to the beach," he said, pointing at the dogs and giving the cat a light rub behind his ears.
Angelo made no response other than setting his paw down and lifting the other, looking extremely uncomfortable with the sand.
"I can't control what the dogs want to do, man," Lennox told him, leaning back on his elbows and wishing, not for the first time, that getting stoned would do for him what it used to. In the past few days, however, it didn't matter how many joints he smoked, he didn't feel good. He barely made it past feeling extremely shitty, no matter how stoned he was. As a coping mechanism, it seemed that pot had finally failed him.
"Look, just go back home, then," he said as Angelo meowed pitifully.
It was a sound that pretty much summed up how Lennox felt right about now.