Repose

[If the lake 'reeked', it doesn't anymore. The ghosts linger. The deaths that have occurred in its depths over the past centuries still stain it. Children still talk about monsters in the black. There's no undoing any of that. But, it's clean as a whistle, pristine and reflecting back the gray fall sky. No one's sure what really happened, but, who's going to complain about a good Samaritan or twelve taking the time to clean things up?]

Who: Travis & Marta
What: A sobriety meeting
Where: Capital
When: Currentish
Warnings: Mention of drugs to start, I'm sure.

[He'd been to enough of these things by now to know how they went. Everyone always sat in a circle while waiting for their turn to speak, some clutched crosses and some just clutched cups of stale coffee that came out of the chipped pot that sat across the room smudged up in about a hundred different sad sets of fingerprints. Travis was one of the ones hanging onto a waxen little paper cup of bad coffee. It was black, and he sipped at its bitter heat like he'd discovered a new brand of punishment. The taste really wasn't good, it was in definite need of sugar. Every now and then, it made the bridge of his nose wrinkle up, unable to disguise the bad taste it left behind on his tongue.

Eventually it was his turn to speak. Some people said five words and some people said five thousand, but Travis definitely aimed for the lower side of the spectrum. He thumbed the chewed up lip of his coffee cup and sat up a few degrees straighter. All of those years in a hospital bed had made his legs skinny, and his bluejeans had a very loose fit. He had on a couple of tee shirts layered over one another, the topmost in a faded yellow color. It was impossible to tell if somebody was an addict or alcoholic just by looking at them, for sure, but he looked pretty clean cut when cast against some of the other people in the group. His dark hair was cropped short and his face was smooth. He didn't have any tattoos or track marks, but he did have some freckles.]

Um. My name's Travis. [Hi, Travis.] I've been sober for... wow, like six years, I guess. It wasn't really my idea, but maybe it never is. Anyway, the hospital suggested I come to these meetings, and it's not like I have anywhere else to be... like almost all my friends are dead, or might as well be. That's it, I guess. Thanks for listening. [He took another sip of his miserable coffee and waited for the talking circle to make its way around.]