(no subject)
A few weeks into her stay on the island, Britta really wasn't sure what to think of it all. On one hand, it was a tropical paradise covered in really super hot people, where everything was free and nothing required work. People got what they needed and helped each other to do the same, doing the best they could, and the whole thing was so sweet, she would have believed it had been organized by cartoon deer in a committee led by an animated bluebird. (Had it not also appealed strongly to the socialist in her, buried as it was under the anarchist, who was in a shallow grave somewhere beneath the feet of a woman too tired of fucking up to do much of anything, she would have counted it as a point against all this being in her head. As it was, she remained undecided.)
On the other, there was the strong possibility that she was crazy. Of course, crazy still came with hot people and a vacation, but it was also crazy. And if she wasn't, if this was all real, she still had to deal with Jeff (but Jeff didn't know what she knew, which was just how not sane she'd been in those last few minutes before her arrival here, and that was definitely in the pro column). Besides, she felt distinctly as if she ought to have been outraged at having her civil liberties ignored in what was absolutely a case of illegal seizure, just of several hundred people.
There was only so long, though, she could spend engaged in complicated debates with herself. The pros kept slipping over to the con side and vice versa and back again, and she'd given up to go swimming instead. In a tasteful, but still totally hot, black one piece swimsuit, she was busy doing absolutely nothing but floating along on the water's surface when she heard it. Just barely audible above the crash of the waterfall, there was a persistent rustling and the sound of something being dragged.
Her stuff was gone. The fruit she'd brought, the towel she'd intended to dry off with, the jeans she'd worn so she wasn't just running around half-naked, they were all gone, and she could just make out the culprit on the run with the second of her shoes. "Hey, "give that back! You little - are you kidding me? Give me back that f-" She cut herself off, epithet turning into a shriek as the remaining shoe came flying at her head and, as she ducked, into the water. "Oh, you are just asking for it, pal," she said as she came back up again, sweeping an arm over the water to splash the offending monkey, but it was already making its getaway and the small wave just crashed onto the path instead.
[Monday afternoon at either waterfall. I'm really, really slow these days, so be patient with me, but I hate to leave a new pup hanging for long without a second EP. This post is open to new tags until I say otherwise.]
On the other, there was the strong possibility that she was crazy. Of course, crazy still came with hot people and a vacation, but it was also crazy. And if she wasn't, if this was all real, she still had to deal with Jeff (but Jeff didn't know what she knew, which was just how not sane she'd been in those last few minutes before her arrival here, and that was definitely in the pro column). Besides, she felt distinctly as if she ought to have been outraged at having her civil liberties ignored in what was absolutely a case of illegal seizure, just of several hundred people.
There was only so long, though, she could spend engaged in complicated debates with herself. The pros kept slipping over to the con side and vice versa and back again, and she'd given up to go swimming instead. In a tasteful, but still totally hot, black one piece swimsuit, she was busy doing absolutely nothing but floating along on the water's surface when she heard it. Just barely audible above the crash of the waterfall, there was a persistent rustling and the sound of something being dragged.
Her stuff was gone. The fruit she'd brought, the towel she'd intended to dry off with, the jeans she'd worn so she wasn't just running around half-naked, they were all gone, and she could just make out the culprit on the run with the second of her shoes. "Hey, "give that back! You little - are you kidding me? Give me back that f-" She cut herself off, epithet turning into a shriek as the remaining shoe came flying at her head and, as she ducked, into the water. "Oh, you are just asking for it, pal," she said as she came back up again, sweeping an arm over the water to splash the offending monkey, but it was already making its getaway and the small wave just crashed onto the path instead.
[Monday afternoon at either waterfall. I'm really, really slow these days, so be patient with me, but I hate to leave a new pup hanging for long without a second EP. This post is open to new tags until I say otherwise.]