Locked to Arthur. Dated August 30th
Ghost had decided that morning, emerging from his newly finished hut, that it was a perfect day for swimming. Really, nearly everyday on the island was the perfect day, but this one was as good as any.
Early, when the sunlight light was still murky and everything was quiet and just waking, Ghost made his way to the compound. He gathered up some towels and a change of clothes for himself, stuffing it all into an old canvas laundry bag the hamper had given him weeks before. He’d saved his old empty Night Train bottle, rinsing it out and letting it soak to get rid of the smell of the sweet wine, and he filled it up with water, deciding that it wouldn’t do to get dehydrated hiking up and down the island. Grabbing a few pieces of fruit for breakfast, he left the building, showered and dressed in a pair of navy swim trunks and an oversized gray t-shirt.
He followed the directions Arthur had given him, walking leisurely along the path, stopping to examine various plants as he went. Miz Deliverance could’ve done wonders here, he decided, and he was a little sad that he didn’t have some of her books and recipes with him, or at least taken more of them to memory.
Finding the hut without incident, the structure modest and looking very much like Ghost’s own, he approached it, hovering outside the doorway and knocking politely against the frame. “Hello?” he called out in his soft Southern drawl, hoping that Arthur was home, but even if he wasn’t at least Ghost had gotten in a nice walk.
Early, when the sunlight light was still murky and everything was quiet and just waking, Ghost made his way to the compound. He gathered up some towels and a change of clothes for himself, stuffing it all into an old canvas laundry bag the hamper had given him weeks before. He’d saved his old empty Night Train bottle, rinsing it out and letting it soak to get rid of the smell of the sweet wine, and he filled it up with water, deciding that it wouldn’t do to get dehydrated hiking up and down the island. Grabbing a few pieces of fruit for breakfast, he left the building, showered and dressed in a pair of navy swim trunks and an oversized gray t-shirt.
He followed the directions Arthur had given him, walking leisurely along the path, stopping to examine various plants as he went. Miz Deliverance could’ve done wonders here, he decided, and he was a little sad that he didn’t have some of her books and recipes with him, or at least taken more of them to memory.
Finding the hut without incident, the structure modest and looking very much like Ghost’s own, he approached it, hovering outside the doorway and knocking politely against the frame. “Hello?” he called out in his soft Southern drawl, hoping that Arthur was home, but even if he wasn’t at least Ghost had gotten in a nice walk.