Leave me alone, leave me alone
Who: Vanille and Godot
When: August 23, evening rush hour
Where: The subway station near the courthouse in sector 3.
Summary: Vanille plays Girl Scout for an unwilling citizen in despair.
Warnings: Nada
The heat wave was becoming unbearable both indoors and out, and soon even the air-conditioned halls of the courthouse felt like the inside of an oven. The trial wrapped up early today, and none too soon for Godot's taste, as he walked out of the courtroom tugging to loosen his tie and his collar. The heat felt like it was constricting him and his head felt cloudy and muggy. The prosecutor made his way to the men's bathroom to splash some water on the back of his neck and run a few wet fingers through his hair, if only to bring him back to his senses until he could get back to his apartment. Must have just been the heat...
Or perhaps not. Half an hour later, as he stood waiting for the train, dizziness started to overtake him. His palms were sweating profusely and his skin was flushed, his fingers trembling around the handle of his briefcase. He leaned up against a support beam and stared at the digital timetable across the way. Five minutes until his train arrived.
Godot sucked in a few deep breaths and glanced behind him at the benches-- all full of sitting people, crammed to capacity. He could have asked one of them to move for him, but his pride wouldn't let him. Dignity demanded he stand, like a healthy adult man should. Leave the seats for the elderly and the crippled.
Besides, he felt like if he took one step more than he needed to, he might faint in front of all these strangers.
When: August 23, evening rush hour
Where: The subway station near the courthouse in sector 3.
Summary: Vanille plays Girl Scout for an unwilling citizen in despair.
Warnings: Nada
The heat wave was becoming unbearable both indoors and out, and soon even the air-conditioned halls of the courthouse felt like the inside of an oven. The trial wrapped up early today, and none too soon for Godot's taste, as he walked out of the courtroom tugging to loosen his tie and his collar. The heat felt like it was constricting him and his head felt cloudy and muggy. The prosecutor made his way to the men's bathroom to splash some water on the back of his neck and run a few wet fingers through his hair, if only to bring him back to his senses until he could get back to his apartment. Must have just been the heat...
Or perhaps not. Half an hour later, as he stood waiting for the train, dizziness started to overtake him. His palms were sweating profusely and his skin was flushed, his fingers trembling around the handle of his briefcase. He leaned up against a support beam and stared at the digital timetable across the way. Five minutes until his train arrived.
Godot sucked in a few deep breaths and glanced behind him at the benches-- all full of sitting people, crammed to capacity. He could have asked one of them to move for him, but his pride wouldn't let him. Dignity demanded he stand, like a healthy adult man should. Leave the seats for the elderly and the crippled.
Besides, he felt like if he took one step more than he needed to, he might faint in front of all these strangers.