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SAMPLE: On one of the couches curled Tefla.
Of course, you really wouldn't be able to tell at first glance if it was him or not. Like a snake seeking the underside of a stone, after he'd arrived last night he'd gone straight to the linen closet, piling a huge heap of sheets and blankets and finally pillowcases and towels, the whole mess thrown drunkenly into a mismatched burrow. Hell, was that even a pair of underwear?
As it was, it simply kind of looked like some enchanted laundromat had settled in for the morning after a long bender. A glass of water and a bottle of whiskey squatted like guardians at what was presumably the head of the whole mess, and judging by the relative empty nature of the larger container, it was a little obvious what he'd been doing all morning.
Well, sort of. After he'd walked off last night, Tefla had roamed most of the city in a way he hadn't done for a couple of years. He'd managed to find a campus party where after a few beers and an hour of friendly conversation, they were already trashed enough that their departing new friend and their suddenly absent bottle of whiskey went unnoticed at the time. Pleasantly buzzed off of the beer, the whiskey, and the juvenile thrill of his theft, Tefla'd made his beligerent way to the all-night Denny's for an ill-concieved idea of breakfast tossed down by the last of the bottle nipped at in the men's bathroom. After the fifty dollar tip, the waitresses were kind enough not to call the cops after the man who stumbled back out.
He wasn't really sure why he wandered back to the bar at that point. Perhaps it was some sort of strange honing beacon made out of a combination of "friends" and "more alcohol." By the time he arrived, however, the place was empty and the bar was full, and all Tefla really wanted to do was lie down.
Hence, the burrow. It's not that he wanted to be a public pity party. It's just that he was far too drunk and exhausted to walk back to his apartment. He thought briefly of finding and staying with Kenny, but realized he hadn't seen the man lately, and maybe a completely inebriated demon showing up on your doorstep at seven in the morning was not really the way to hang out after a prolonged absence. He felt too bad to crawl in with Mona; as much as he liked her - and he did, or this whole mess wouldn't have started in the first place - he just needed to be alone. The last remains of good sense kept him from scenting out Zack...he kind of felt the man needed to be alone too. But as much as he craved being alone, with a sense of despair and for the first time in a long time, Tefla felt incredibly lonely.
And so he burrowed. At some point there was a bottle of whiskey. At another was the glass of water. But largely, what was left over by the gaping maw of daylight was a giant pile of linens and towels, one sigiled hand trailing against the floor, and a pair of grey eyes that alternately stirred and slept, feeling miserable.
The Occasional · Tue Sep 07, 2010 @ 08:38am · 0 Comments |
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