Ashley Karas (thehellamidoing) wrote in summerview, @ 2019-04-01 10:21:00 |
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Ashley stepped out of his truck and adjusted the brim of his hat, reaching over into the flatbed to grab his tool belt. He knew he wouldn’t need the box, so he shoved that on the passenger seat and locked the truck (not that he thought anyone would consider his beat up hunk of shit worth stealing but it was all that he had, rattling engine and all), wandering up to the house. The sun was just about setting, twilight painted the sky some artistic shit that if he was in a more romantic mood he’d have made some painterly reference about the cosmos and shit. But he wasn’t. And he was here to fix a door, not woo someone. Plus, he was curious as all heck about the cat that could destroy a door.
Rapping his knuckles on the front door, Ashley slipped his fingers into the pockets of his dusty jeans and looped his thumbs in the belt loops. Today’s belt buckle was a pewter coloured Celtic-inspired one. Of the few belongings he actually had, his belt buckle collection was something he cherished. That and his truck and his hat (obviously, because what kind of cowboy didn’t have a hat). Rocking on his heels, leaning back to look at the house - which was, again, a nice one like the one he’d visited earlier that day - he wondered if each one was as unique as the last here, if the architects that had designed this island had been high on something when they’d pulled the plans for this town together or if it had just been cobbled together out of whatever was available as more and more people came to live here. Not that it mattered, he was just curious more than anything as he waited for the door to be opened. He was ready, or so he told himself, for whoever opened the door. |