Re: Ocean's Eleven
[Oh, yeah, he was stuck, and Lin's grin was acknowledgement of that fact made a physical expression of absolute glee. He pushed off of the hospital bed with a jut of hip, inching backward some as Daniel sat up, um, a little bit. The boy continued to shake his hand, fingers out, through the air to dry the plasticine into a hard, flawless shell a la Mediterranean predatory sea snail, except on nails.
He smiled, unbothered by the own movement of his hand at the end of his wrist, and looked only once sideways at the wall, on the other side of which George Bush said stupid shit.
There came the initial sigh, the linger of his gaze on the myriad mauve bruises, the man's wrist. He shook his head once, rocking backward onto his heels and back to the balls of his feet in time with the music still playing in the chair. Manic, all movement, he practically bounced.] You need to work on your jokes is all I got to say to you.
[But that was a lie. bc Lin always had more to say.]
Yeah, let me just go sign the release papers and we can go.