Angela Dodson (alwaysknown) wrote in parabolical, @ 2008-02-23 15:59:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | angela dodson, john constantine |
Who: Angela Dodson, John Constantine
When: Saturday afternoon-ish
Where: Hyperion
Rating: TBD
Status: In Progress
Angela pulled the piece of paper that she had written John's room number on out of her pocket as she stepped into the hotel. There didn't seem to be anyone at the front desk which seemed slightly odd. But then again it was John and somehow odd didn't even begin to describe anything. He wasn't the kind of person she could picture in a Hilton near the airport. She glanced around the foyer and then down to the paper in her hand.
She walked up to where the stairs split off left and right. Angela cast a glance up both sides and then chose the left one. She tried to think back to when her life didn't involve trips to hell and alternate realities. When things were normal. Normal would be nice right about now. Or if normal was out of reach she could go for at least having the sun back.
She found the room and turned to knock, stopped, glanced around. Normal. She could possibly walk away that very moment, dull the voices in her head with medication and pretend it all away again. But had it really been easier then, lying constantly to herself. She shoved the paper back in her pocket and knocked. Don't be an idiot, Angela, she scolded herself as she waited.