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Jan. 12th, 2013 10:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morrobay1990Title: Southern Decay
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
morrobay1990
Warning:
Genre:
Word count: 200
Disclaimer: They are AP's
♥ Jack
It wasn’t so bad.
His life.
It wasn’t so bad.
There were compensations.
He didn’t worry about money.
Or when he would eat next.
Or where he would sleep.
He had a job.
Somewhere to go every day.
Inside.
Weather wasn’t an issue.
Losing a sale didn’t hurt like getting thrown to the ground by a one-ton bull. Winning a sale didn’t feel as good as hearing the eight-second bell while still astride, though.
But it wasn’t so bad.
Sure, there was that ache.
The one that never really left him.
It subsided when he was distracted enough by work.
Or if he was forced to talk to someone, a potential client, Lureen, Bobby.
It subsided.
It never left.
It was always there.
He tried to ignore it.
It was always, always there.
In the nineteen hours twenty eight minutes every day, give or take, that he was aware of the ache, he had no choice but to give in.
Giving in was glorious. It was the remembrance of all they had been together. All they were to each other. All they were.
Giving in was crushing. It was the remembrance of all they had been together. All they were to each other. All they were.
Alone.
Author:
morrobay1990Warning:
Genre:
Word count: 200
Disclaimer: They are AP's
♥ Jack
It wasn’t so bad.
His life.
It wasn’t so bad.
There were compensations.
He didn’t worry about money.
Or when he would eat next.
Or where he would sleep.
He had a job.
Somewhere to go every day.
Inside.
Weather wasn’t an issue.
Losing a sale didn’t hurt like getting thrown to the ground by a one-ton bull. Winning a sale didn’t feel as good as hearing the eight-second bell while still astride, though.
But it wasn’t so bad.
Sure, there was that ache.
The one that never really left him.
It subsided when he was distracted enough by work.
Or if he was forced to talk to someone, a potential client, Lureen, Bobby.
It subsided.
It never left.
It was always there.
He tried to ignore it.
It was always, always there.
In the nineteen hours twenty eight minutes every day, give or take, that he was aware of the ache, he had no choice but to give in.
Giving in was glorious. It was the remembrance of all they had been together. All they were to each other. All they were.
Giving in was crushing. It was the remembrance of all they had been together. All they were to each other. All they were.
Alone.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2013-01-15 10:14 am (UTC)wow. this hit me like a punch in the stomach.
thanks for that! :-)
we will be visiting ennis again soon, though, right?
.