Flying in with the Snow is (winterhawk) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2013-01-18 23:37:00 |
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Entry tags: | frodo baggins |
Who: Chetan Winter [open]
What: What is the sound of Nothing
Where: RV / Casino Royale
When: Today..
Warnings/Rating: Nada.
Latitude: 36-09'49'' N
Longitude: 115-30'19'' W
Haunted.
The whisper of a voice
When no one’s around
A shuffle of footfalls
Landscapes,
Softly browned
The words appeared out of somwehere in his head and Chay quickly moved to write it down in his snake-skinned journal next to the longitude and latitude of the Red Rock Canyon area where he had been working before he sat it down on the RV table next to him. The light blue pages at last bearing the first of it's notes.
What do you do after a day of hearing no other voice but your own, you either wonder if you are crazy from talking to yourself or you go where noise cancels out the voice running around your head. And what other place is there to be than sin city for its silence canceling properties. "But no alcohol" Chay promised to himself. Alcohol meant that the voice got louder, alcohol meant memories were not quite so clear. Alcohol meant that he could almost see a different someone in the mirror if he really looked hard enough. Chay snorted back a laugh, he had recently re-viewed the second movie of Spiderman, he could _almost_ relate to Harry at the end of the movie when he had started hearing the voice of his father. Only this voice was a quieter, more patient one. At least it didn't complain when he spent all his daylight hour digging or the hours spent writing up a report online for the execs at Coeur. His job while he was "on leave". Mining Engineers were never on leave, there was always soils to be tested, or geophysical studies to be made. After hitting send Chay cracked his knuckles before returning them again to tap his fingers along the handle of his pipe/hatchet in thought. He couldn't take that into one of the casinos. They would look right on past that it was a pipe [in part] Perhaps he had to get one that wasn't quite as noticeable since his craving for vanilla-flavored pipe tobacco had increased since he had arrived in Vegas. Sure, he could go to one of the "tourist trap" places to get a pipe, but a more personal one might be found in a different, and not so on the beaten path, spot. With a softer sigh he pushed closed his laptop and settled it and his pipe into his storage closet.
After a full day's work of report writing he needed to get into his truck and get away from the RV park, before the evening traffic picked up on The Strip and there wouldn't be any places to park within walking distance.
The only drawback about going to casinos was that people tended to think that he was one of employees instead of a customer. Not so much of a draw back when you were trying to avoid having drinks. He thumbed through his "Guide to Vegas" as he walked along the strip searching for the best place to play Craps before settling on five dollar craps at the Casino Royal.
A good choice, he was doing fairly good in his win/loss ratio and the small cost of play allowed him to play into the evening and was a good chioce up until the point when after dark, he found himself continually turning his eyes towards the Mirage Casino.