twinkle twinkle little star
The beach is a lot quieter at night. While I'm not stupid enough to go swimming alone in the dark -- that's just asking to get eaten by Jaws, I swear -- I can't see anything wrong with doing a little good old-fashioned stargazing. New York might be famous for its skyline but they aren't joking when they call it the City That Never Sleeps. Light pollution alone means there's not a star to be seen in the city, high rises aside.
It gets pretty cold at night for a tropical island in the middle of nowhere, so I'm dressed in the warmest clothing the clothes box would afford me. Unfortunately, this means I look like I just stepped out of the 1980s. Between the black skinny jeans and the hot pink trench coat I found with Mikal a few weeks ago, I'm half-tempted to tease my hair to oblivion and start singing Love is a Battlefield.
As it stands, though, I'm just sprawled across my Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles blanket, head cradled in my hands. It strikes me as strange that I don't recognize any of the constellations until I remember that this place really is in the middle of nowhere. If the stars actually made any sort of sense, we'd probably be able to, like, triangulate some sort of location or whatever. Still, I don't need to recognize the stars to be able to appreciate them.
I spot a cluster that reminds me of the Hulk when I hear a set of footsteps approaching. Like I said, the beach is quieter not quiet.
"Nice night, huh?" I say, shifting over to my side to see who's inadvertently become my company.
It gets pretty cold at night for a tropical island in the middle of nowhere, so I'm dressed in the warmest clothing the clothes box would afford me. Unfortunately, this means I look like I just stepped out of the 1980s. Between the black skinny jeans and the hot pink trench coat I found with Mikal a few weeks ago, I'm half-tempted to tease my hair to oblivion and start singing Love is a Battlefield.
As it stands, though, I'm just sprawled across my Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles blanket, head cradled in my hands. It strikes me as strange that I don't recognize any of the constellations until I remember that this place really is in the middle of nowhere. If the stars actually made any sort of sense, we'd probably be able to, like, triangulate some sort of location or whatever. Still, I don't need to recognize the stars to be able to appreciate them.
I spot a cluster that reminds me of the Hulk when I hear a set of footsteps approaching. Like I said, the beach is quieter not quiet.
"Nice night, huh?" I say, shifting over to my side to see who's inadvertently become my company.