Rob Duncan (longrob) wrote in spinningcompass, @ 2018-09-05 23:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | abigail hobbs |
Who? Rob & Open
Where? A random 'street' on wheel 3.
When? Wednesday afternoon
What? An old-new arrival.
Open? Yes please!
Rating? TBD, some mention of war.
The whole world had gone mad, that was all there was to it. The British had broken him eventually, the man who had been 'cool as anything' when they'd come for him. He'd sang happy songs while at the labour camp, and never let them see him hurting or upset by any of it. They could burn his mill to the ground, they could do what they liked with him. They wouldn't make him fight.
They'd let him go eventually, and he'd seen the mess they'd made of Ewan. Poor boy. Poor Chris. God, he could still remember how she'd cried when she'd seen him all kitted out in the uniform. He knew that she was disappointed in him, that he'd finally reached his breaking point, that he was giving in.
How he longed for the warmth of her now, for the fire on at Blawearie and a home cooked meal. He was the only man from his village left standing - or not currently standing. Darkness had fallen, and although some fighting could still be heard far off in the distance, it wasn't coming to what was left of their regiment tonight. The men had huddled down for what rest they could get, while they could get it.
Now, unknown to Rob, he was crouched on the street, leaning back against a shop front on the space station, dozing away. Safe at last.