Wyatt Elijah Birch (crimsondevil) wrote in choo_choo, @ 2015-12-12 08:27:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, character: cosima niehaus, character: matt murdock, scenery: vast ocean |
Breakfast reading (Cosima)
Matt had awoken in the same comfortable bed that he'd had already a few times now, but that strange feeling had yet to wear away. Each woven thread was covered in the knowledge that he wasn't in his own bed, in his own apartment, all by himself. He sort of missed the nights when Foggy would come banging on his door at odd hours of the night, drunk and trying to get him to come out and drink too. He didn't mind Josie's, it just wasn't a place he saw himself drowning his troubles in. Not while terror haunted the streets. The Russians were had been bad, but Fisk was worse. Now though all of that was seeming like a distant memory. A past life.
The blind lawyer awoke, showered and dressed all while not running in to anyone. After finding and adorning clothes that weren't his, but that fit him too well, Matt shuffled down the cars toward where he knew the dining car to be. Once inside the car, Matt was instantly greeted by the aroma of coffee. There was no one else in the car, though, which was strange.
What was it that Alice in Wonderland always said? Curiouser and curiouser. He felt like that applied to this situation too well.
Moving slowly between the aisles, Matt found a comfortable, vacant seat at one of the linen covered tables and he set his baton to the side where it would be easy to reach should he need it.
The coffee aroma was overwhelming, however, and Matt gave in to the scent. He picked up the hot urn, carefully poured the coffee in to the designated cup and then set the urn back down. It was almost like magic, the coffee had just been there and been ready.
Careful not to upturn the hot coffee, Matt plucked a menu from the table and opened it up. The laminate was pristine, and it would keep him from his task. But he was resilient and with a small, knowing smile, Matt slipped the paper part of the menu through the natural slit in the laminate and set the menu down. His fingertips brushed over the lettering printed neatly on the stock paper. Tilting his head, Matt browsed the breakfast selections as if that was the most natural thing in the world. No bumps of Braille were there to greet him, like old familiar friends, just the text on the paper.
"Hmm..." He breathed, tilting his head as he tried to figure out what he wanted to eat.