Even if I'm said to be "generally adequate" [open]
Characters: Clarice and open
Content: The doctor goes for some introspection. Perhaps she'll meet someone new?
Setting: Around town, she's walking.
Time: Late afternoon, day after Lunasa
Warnings: Nothing for now?
Lunasa. She'd spent the last few days getting her presents, sending them, and had been very surprised that people had sent her things. It was a fun experience, love and friendship were in the air, and everyone was happy.
Clarice hated it. It made her think of them, how they were probably laughing, giggling, her absence unnoticed. She'd sent them a letter when the festival started, telling them how long she was stopped over, how she'd been and that she hoped that they were okay. Yesterday she'd gotten a fat envelope from them, with a long letter on how they were, concern for her safety given the terrorist threats, Olaf's subtle warning to not get tempted into drugs again (honestly, she was not a child), and photographs. The children looked adorable, patiently waiting for the picture to finish being taken. And everyone else looked happy, as she remembered.
She could only look at them for so long before stuffing them back in the envelope and hiding it under her pillow. They were a family and yet not. And the not was so evident today, as she strolled around the town, watching people. Her heart felt nothing as she watched young lovers kiss, children holding onto parent's hands, friends laughing. For now, she was by herself. And Clarice was fine with that. Today she could be anyone and no one.
Content: The doctor goes for some introspection. Perhaps she'll meet someone new?
Setting: Around town, she's walking.
Time: Late afternoon, day after Lunasa
Warnings: Nothing for now?
Lunasa. She'd spent the last few days getting her presents, sending them, and had been very surprised that people had sent her things. It was a fun experience, love and friendship were in the air, and everyone was happy.
Clarice hated it. It made her think of them, how they were probably laughing, giggling, her absence unnoticed. She'd sent them a letter when the festival started, telling them how long she was stopped over, how she'd been and that she hoped that they were okay. Yesterday she'd gotten a fat envelope from them, with a long letter on how they were, concern for her safety given the terrorist threats, Olaf's subtle warning to not get tempted into drugs again (honestly, she was not a child), and photographs. The children looked adorable, patiently waiting for the picture to finish being taken. And everyone else looked happy, as she remembered.
She could only look at them for so long before stuffing them back in the envelope and hiding it under her pillow. They were a family and yet not. And the not was so evident today, as she strolled around the town, watching people. Her heart felt nothing as she watched young lovers kiss, children holding onto parent's hands, friends laughing. For now, she was by herself. And Clarice was fine with that. Today she could be anyone and no one.