Oct. 2nd, 2008

[identity profile] dangeroushabits.livejournal.com
(Morning after the door meeting)

Having sobered up (under extreme duress, in his opinion,) achieved a more or less functional state and raided the dispensers in one of the men's rooms for several packets of liquid hand soap, John had contrived to clean himself up somewhat adequately in the lake. He was currently sitting on the shore near the riverboat dock, hung over, shirtless and soaking wet, a cigarette dangling forgotten from his lips, as he attempted to shave several months' worth of beard using his athame and a small sparkly pink Princesses mirror he'd liberated from a gift shop. Attempted being the key word, since his hands were shaking so badly he had to keep stopping or risk slitting his own throat.

After nicking himself for the fifth or sixth time, he swore quietly and lowered the mirror and knife, ready to concede defeat. But then a faint tingle at the back of his neck brought a cynical half-smile to his face. "Your new boyfriend know you like to skulk around ogling strange half-naked men?" he asked the unseen presence at his back without turning around.


A world of laughter. A world of tears. A world of hope. A world of fears.

December 2016

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