Who Owen and Humphrey What Chatting Where On Humphrey's porch, then probably inside, since it is chilly! When Nowish Rating/status tba / in progress
Sitting on his front porch, Humphrey had Hamlet at his feet as he took a break from his play. The last throws of the play, he thought to himself as he finished off the cigarette he had indulged in, putting it out in the ash tray beside him. He only had a few more things to tie up in the story before he would be finished his first draft, and that was always an exciting feeling for the playwright.
He wore a large sweater against the chill of the day, wanting fresh air but not wanting to freeze. His head was tilted to the side as he listened to the sound of the world around him, but that was interrupted by the soft thump of Hamlet's tail and a small 'hrumph' of a noise. Someone was coming. Humphrey smiled a bit and lowered his hand to scratch the dog on the head. Who needed a seeing eye dog when they had a great beast like Hamlet? He would wait for whomever it was to announce themselves, since it was far too vain of him to assume they were in fact coming to see him and not just walking by.