[of our own device]

Who: Regan and Justice.
Where: Serenity Garden.
When: Early evening.

People might come out to walk through this garden at any moment, take advantage of the peace and quiet the name implied but they wouldn’t find it and the -- for the time being, at least -- sole occupant very little for the disruption his presence caused. Serenity Garden, what a stupid name. The first time he’d heard it he’d been caught between absolute disbelief and plain old amusement, he’d laughed, he remembered that much, but couldn’t for the life of him recall if he’d continued to laugh or remarked on the idiocy of it. Regan couldn’t imagine himself not making some kind of comment on the absurdity of the name in conjunction with this place and the way it worked, how it basically held people prisoner until they got over whatever issues it was holding them here in the first place. And if you couldn’t get over your issues? Didn’t want to? Didn’t believe you had issues to begin with? Well, then you were here to stay, like it or not.

Regan had grown complacent over the years, it certainly could have been worse, he’d had no home to go back to and no connections he was eager to keep alive and so he had no real motivation to better himself. He scoffed at that after lighting a cigarette and taking the first drag off it, pocketing his lighter again before reaching out to take hold of the golf club he’d propped up against a raised flower bed a few moments before. Better himself, that sounded like something from a light night infomercial or some crap a televangelist might spout in the middle of an over exuberant sermon. Bullshit. That was all it was, plain and simple. All of it. From the needlessly cheery welcome you received in the lobby when you first walked through the doors to the reminder day in and day out that you could never leave, not if you didn’t change. Regan didn’t want to change, didn’t think he needed to.

When he swung the club and sent the small white ball flying through the air he hoped there was some ignorant bastard on the receiving end of it when it finally came careening down after its short but swift flight. Already he was retrieving another ball from the container he’d brought out with him, dropping it down on the ground, freeing up his hand to take another drag from his cigarette. If he hadn’t hit anyone with that first ball, it was only a matter of time.