Room 415, Sunday afternoon
Tongue poking out a bit in concentration, Bo finished tacking up the last of his spare decorations, pressing the picture against the wall with the heel of his hand. Cher's stuff - and hadn't that been mighty awkward, for him anyway, sleeping side by each with a girl and not in the fun way - more than made up for his own Spartan existence, he thought.
He moved back to consider his handiwork - a Confederate flag hanging over his headboard, and the three photos over his desk. One of himself and Luke, half-out of the General Lee's windows; one of Uncle Jesse sitting on his front porch, looking grumpy at having to pose for a picture; and one of Daisy lounging on the hood of her white Charger like some kind of slinky hood ornament. Bo had to grin and chuckle a little when he saw that on again. He was gonna miss Daisy.
[[Open!]]
He moved back to consider his handiwork - a Confederate flag hanging over his headboard, and the three photos over his desk. One of himself and Luke, half-out of the General Lee's windows; one of Uncle Jesse sitting on his front porch, looking grumpy at having to pose for a picture; and one of Daisy lounging on the hood of her white Charger like some kind of slinky hood ornament. Bo had to grin and chuckle a little when he saw that on again. He was gonna miss Daisy.
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