(no subject)
Farley lies back on a couch, leather duster draped over him, and his various possessions from Chicago organized on and around the couch. (A closer look might reveal a stuffed penguin sticking out from between his arms.) He glances around a moment, figures he doesn't need sleep just yet, and sits up a little.
"Ever not regret having to leave somewhere?"
"Ever not regret having to leave somewhere?"