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October 10th, 2012


[info]avaliantman
[info]mythopoeics

[info]avaliantman
[info]mythopoeics

forty-two.


[info]avaliantman
[info]mythopoeics
She had told him to be careful in her own words and he had tried. It wasn't like he purposefully had gotten distracted while up on the farm, ignoring the fact that his life was a lot quieter and more messy. It wasn't as if he had begged someone to leave their shoe in his way. Actually, looking back, that was his shoe and considering he pretty much lived alone, he only had himself to blame for the fall he took down the stairs.

Not that he was ready to accept fault, even while getting his forehead stitched up by a nurse at Saint Francis (at least he thought it was Saint Francis). At least nothing was broken and the painkillers were mellowing him out. Sometime later in the week, he'd have someone drive him back to the city.

As if someone was really waiting there for him. No, he'd stick around on the farm a little longer. He'd even brought Pierre with him, feeling no one else could be trusted with the frog's care. Ridiculous but he didn't want his pal to be upset if she came home to a dead pet. And on that thought, he was definitely not telling Brie about the incident, not until she came back. She didn't need to hear about his issues when she should be forgetting what crazy she'd gone through.