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[Mar. 21st, 2010|11:51 pm] |
Who: George Luz and Kimber
What: helping a new arrival
When: Evening.
Where: London
It couldn't be denied that in Bastogne, George had faced some tough weather, but they didn't say anything about tornadoes. He was just enjoying what passed for a hot meal-actually it was stone cold by the time it left the pot-of beans and broth when the wind started to pick up. That may've been good because it meant a break from artillery, but damn, that wind made the cold even more intense.
He braced himself against the wind, shutting his eyes against the flying snow. He didn't even open them when he heard signs of civilization, well, he opened them, but it took a moment.
"What the hell was in those beans?" How'd he suddenly get from Bastogne to London? Not that this was the London he had left behind, it was too bright, but he'd recognize limey accents anywhere. He also noticed that he wasn't so cold, not that the weather was warm but it was a definite step up from the minus 30 degrees and him without so much as long johns or a winter coat.
"Well George, looks like you've finally cracked."
There was a trash can right by him and he dumped his beans (metal pan and all), before pulling out a cigarette and taking a light, taking a deep inhale. Nothing was never so bad when he could just enjoy a cigarette. |
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