morrobay1990 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
morrobay1990) wrote2012-10-03 06:58 am
morrobay1990) wrote2012-10-03 06:58 am
Entry tags:
Ritual
Title: Ritual
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
morrobay1990
Warning:
Genre: canon
Word count: 175
Disclaimer: They are AP's
♥ Jack
He woke usual time, 5:05, even though he wasn’t going to work this day.
He always fixed the coffee pot the night before, so all he had to do in the morning was switch it on, it brewed while he shaved.
The weather was finally cooling off, even though the last day of summer was weeks past...he slept with all windows open wide, the feel of cool air and the sound of country nothing soothing as not much else was.
Same day every year, always the same, always different.
His thoughts were tangled but he let them alone, and soon they began to unravel in smooth lines, revealing the life past...he knew where he would end up if he followed them, so he went along, unafraid, overlooking previous scars.
Past was his favorite place now...used to be his favorites could be located on a map, roads shown as double red lines, narrowing to single black, disappearing at a range name, traveled by few, one in particular.
He got in the truck, pointed it northwest, turned the radio on low and headed back.
Author:
morrobay1990Warning:
Genre: canon
Word count: 175
Disclaimer: They are AP's
♥ Jack
He woke usual time, 5:05, even though he wasn’t going to work this day.
He always fixed the coffee pot the night before, so all he had to do in the morning was switch it on, it brewed while he shaved.
The weather was finally cooling off, even though the last day of summer was weeks past...he slept with all windows open wide, the feel of cool air and the sound of country nothing soothing as not much else was.
Same day every year, always the same, always different.
His thoughts were tangled but he let them alone, and soon they began to unravel in smooth lines, revealing the life past...he knew where he would end up if he followed them, so he went along, unafraid, overlooking previous scars.
Past was his favorite place now...used to be his favorites could be located on a map, roads shown as double red lines, narrowing to single black, disappearing at a range name, traveled by few, one in particular.
He got in the truck, pointed it northwest, turned the radio on low and headed back.
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