Joey Alexander knows he is good (fornothing) wrote in rooms, @ 2014-04-11 01:34:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !walking dead, *log, joey alexander, shane alexander |
twd, prison yard; joey/shane
[The prison didn't feel like a prison, at least not like the ones he'd spent half of his adult life in. There was a calm here despite the promise of death that loomed(& staggered & dragged decaying feet) on the other side of the tall fence. The dead seemed to have some form of consciousness, they at least had an awareness that people were on this side, its what kept them rotting and pacing at the gates. The sun was high, and everything smelled like decay. Joey didn't know if it was just in his head or actual, but the great outdoors smelled just a bit more ripe than he thought it should have, even considering that the world was apparently overrun with zombies.
It was a little after noon when he sat out in the prison yard, concrete under him where inmates once would have played basketball. Tools were spread out beside him, and Joey picked up a small wrench as he started to tighten the bolts on a camshaft gear he'd previously taken off to clean. The world might have been an obsolete graveyard, but his bike was going to shine.]