i_amsoaring (i_amsoaring) wrote in we_coexist, @ 2013-01-03 19:53:00 |
|
|||
Current mood: | depressed |
Entry tags: | henry mccoy, hoban washburne, zz:status complete |
Sunrise, Sunset...sunset...SUNSET! (open)
Wash hadn't even really noticed that so much time had passed. For some reason The City had been giving him a stipend and he had been using it with nearly blind obedience. He was being rather unsocial, not traveling too far from where his apartment landed the next day for fear of crossing paths with a tall Amazonian woman. The one that was his former wife, that was. Knowing The le se City it wouldn't at all be unusual if it decided to drag an actual woman from the amazon here. Oh, to see the mud fights between her and Zoe. Might due his broken heart well.
Yes, Wash was becoming quite the hermit. That's not to say that he was depressed. Scratch that, he was hopelessly depressed. He'd finally showered, at least. After that odd encounter with the curious, pixie-like woman he figured it would do him well. He'd even showered more times after that, it had felt so good! If showers helped mend broken hearts he'd have at least 75% of his heart fixed up quicker than Kaylee could get a dead engine to start again! But as showers had yet to develop that particular ability he settled himself into a drab routine.
Wake up.
Maybe shower.
Go to closest cafe.
Flirt mercilessly with first elderly female server he saw. Either get free coffee/breakfast or get evil eyed and cold coffee.
Go to closest grocery store. Exchange naughty jokes with young, pimpled bagger (one at every grocery store).
Go home.
Eat.
Read paper.
Stare at crack in wall for an hour or two while sighing pitifully.
Eat.
Go up to roof of apartment via fire escape ladder and watch sunset, sighing pitifully.
His fun-filled day was no different today. He even took a shower! But after an hour of watching the sunset, things seemed a might odd. Mainly that he'd spent an HOUR watching a sunset. He narrowed his eyes at the edge of stars that remained around the brilliant final minutes of the day that had turned into a brilliant hour. It was enough oddity to shake his apathetic, depressed state for a bit. If anything mattered to him, it was the sky.
Addled, he climbed back down the latter and rode the creaky elevator to the ground floor. A yellowed clock read 9pm. With hunched shoulders he felt a drive to investigate. Investigate what? Well he wasn't sure. But anything that distracted him from his drowning in self-despair routine was enough reason to act. Even if the 'acting' part was just him staring at the sky and pointing dumbly saying, "What?" while donning his brightly colored pajama bottoms and A-line undershirt in the middle of the street.
Tact, he had not.