|Brian Jenkins | Dr. Jekyll (tooth_fairy) wrote in bellumlogs,|
@ 2010-06-04 22:18:00
|Entry tags:||dr. jekyll, scheherazade|
Who: Sherri and Brian
Where: The doors/lobby of Bellum
When: Friday afternoon
Warnings: Super extreme politeness and civility
A warm breeze swept the edge of his jacket as he walked, threatening to drag him forward if he walked any slower. Brian was used to being egged on by other pedestrians, but this was the first time that the actual weather seemed determined to get him to walk faster. His strides were long and loping, his shoulders hunched just slightly as he went. Though he was a tall man, Brian Jenkins didn't carry himself accordingly. He looked shrunken. Smaller than he should. His mother had scolded him for such habits when he was a boy, and it seemed they stuck. He felt bad for her.
It was strange for him to be finished with work so early. The sun was still in the sky, not threatening to set yet, and the streets were clear of Friday night party goers. But he had had two patients cancel, and there were none waiting for a dentist. The secretary, Matilda, had practically shoved him out the door as he peered around the waiting room, looking for one last patient to work on. He almost felt lost now without the constraints of work to hold him down. Now what would he do?
Brian didn't like free time. Free time ultimately devolved into something unpleasant. He spent most of his time alone - and would continue to do so, given his recent move - and he spent most of his time alone thinking. Thinking wasn't always good for Brian. If he let his mind wander, it would take him to terrible places. He would get on the internet and search Web MD over and over again, then sit on the Amazon page for the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders for at least an hour before once again deciding that purchasing it would cement the fact that he's insane. And given the forum posts that his neighbors had made, he would only be getting crazier as time went on.
He had so little to look forward to.
The building he now hated came up quickly, and before long, he was at its doors. From a few yards away, he could see a girl struggling with one of the front doors, a number of plastic grocery bags hanging from her arms. Frowning, he trotted up towards her, slipping a hand between her and the door and pulling it open. "Here," he said, glancing down at her with a faint smile. "You need some help carrying those?"