jude. (thefixer) wrote in repose, @ 2016-06-30 23:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | *log, jude coleman, oliver king |
oli & jude
[Slip-sliding over bare floors in socks a little threadbare around the toes but who's looking? Who's counting? Not me, sir, Jude was padding toward the smell of oil-paint and turps, carbon and chalk that resonated against the olofactory part of his memory and hind-brain that called this home, and good and safe. Because he wasn't exactly all pieces together, a jigsaw puzzle on which the picture was coherent but pieces were lost, under a carpet or filched to demonstrate a talent. He leaned into the door-jamb of the room-within-a-house that Jude would have been entirely happy to live out of, please and thank you, and slid in with a throat-clear for permission.]
Hi sunshine. How's the drawing?