(no subject)
Kaylee hooks a fleece jacket off what she suspects is a communal coatrack and goes out the back door. The jacket stays draped over her shoulders; it seems like a better idea than expending the unnecessary effort to put her arms through the holes, twisting her back in the process.
The ground is dry, but not cracked; between clumps of low, pale green bushes with pointed leaves (that Kaylee wouldn't be touching even if she felt up for it) are rocks in various stages of being sun-bleached; the soil is red; off in the distance, the mountains appear as mere suggestions, looking more like lumps of haze than anything solid.
The air is dry on her face, but somewhere -- she can smell water coming. There are a few clouds, high and disparate in the faded blue sky, cast gold in the beginning of the sunlight.
Something inside Kaylee begins to untwist, and she takes in her first non-doctor-mandated deep breath since it happened.
New Mexico, she thinks with some surprise, is nice.
The ground is dry, but not cracked; between clumps of low, pale green bushes with pointed leaves (that Kaylee wouldn't be touching even if she felt up for it) are rocks in various stages of being sun-bleached; the soil is red; off in the distance, the mountains appear as mere suggestions, looking more like lumps of haze than anything solid.
The air is dry on her face, but somewhere -- she can smell water coming. There are a few clouds, high and disparate in the faded blue sky, cast gold in the beginning of the sunlight.
Something inside Kaylee begins to untwist, and she takes in her first non-doctor-mandated deep breath since it happened.
New Mexico, she thinks with some surprise, is nice.