Malcolm Tucker (fuckitybye) wrote in spinningcompass, @ 2014-02-28 19:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | !open, ~john mitchell (oe) |
Who? Malcolm & OPEN
Where? The edge of the wood, by the cottage.
When? This afternoon
What? Being contemplative
Open? Yes
Rating? High for language, at least.
Malcolm had felt it for some time now. A definite absence in his life. There had been the hints- the strange feeling, the way that people looked at him now and then, a look he wasn't used to. Something verging on pity. A tight-lipped, head-tilt, sighing look- or lack of a look, considering the avoidance of eye-contact that often accompanied it.
Then there were the things that just didn't add up. Memories that felt fuzzy and incomplete, a slight tug in his heart that made him feel like he was grieving for something or someone. He assumed it was homesickness, but there was more to it than that. There was a lot more to it, that he couldn't figure out properly. This whole island was fucked up. Surely it wasn't uncommon to feel... uneasy.
Something had brought him here, though. To the edge of the forest, to stand in front of a strange looking little cottage, unable to figure out the ache in his heart that increased as he looked at it. Jesus christ, he wanted to cry. That wasn't like him.
He stepped forward, his heart racing as he considered looking inside. Something was stopping him, making him pause with a hand on the door, frozen in fear.