| Yankees v Red Sox. For Jimmy and Alan |
[18 Sep 2007|09:46am] |
Caleb's pretty excited. A baseball game, the Red Sox, Jimmy and Alan, the prospect of all the junk food he can handle (or afford), and so far he hasn't cared at all that they're back in Boston again. At all. Now that's progress. Although there are good reasons why he hasn't turned to his usual dislike of revisiting old haunting grounds. If for no other reason, how often does he have an actual reason to slather himself in body paint? He's got it in red, white and blue and he's not afraid to use it. The turtle, left back at the hotel despite his claims that it would pine for them, already has a multicolored shell.
"Jimmy? Alan? Come here so I can paint your face."
He probably should've waited to get someone else to do his own. It's... abstract.
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For ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) the_calcium_tm |
[16 Aug 2006|04:21pm] |
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mood |
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 nervous |
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After talking to Alan and sitting outside for an hour or two, Caleb was ready to go back in and try to sleep and not think at all for a while. No dreams. No thinking. That's be nice. And maybe it's because so far after a day of full of exhausting activities he's only slept about two hours, but he goes to sleep hard. And he only spends a little while listening to Jimmy breathe and not curling a hand on Jimmy's arm.
He wakes up and Jimmy's asleep. So Caleb, careful not to move Jimmy much, rolls over and goes back to sleep.
He wakes up again and assumes, on half-asleep autopilot, that Jimmy's up and about, because Jimmy's always up before Caleb. He rolls out of bed and into the bathroom, and it's not until after half an hour of showering and getting dressed that Caleb realises Jimmy's still asleep.
So... okay. That'll give Caleb time to come up with a plan. A talking plan.
By the time a stream of afternoon sunlight's coming in through the balcony doorway, Caleb's lying on the floor and thinking maybe it wasn't as bad as he thought it was. He probably doesn't need a plan, which is good because all he's got so far is step 1: talk to Jimmy. A little fight, a little tree punching... it could happen to anyone. Right?
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| Phonecall to alan_shore. |
[30 Jul 2006|12:14am] |
From here.
For the first time in pretty much ever, Caleb wakes up before Jimmy. He wakes up before it's even light, or what he'd usually call morning. Sleep was slow in coming and barely there when it did. Caleb dreamt of dusty roads and a sky full of heavy clouds; when he blinks and sits up, he's still expecting fat drops of rain, the bass notes of thunder, sharp cracks of lightning, all to stir up the dust around him.
It's disappointing to wake up in a cool calm night.
Foregoing a midnight storm, Caleb scrubs his hair into further disarray and picks up the phone, shutting the door quietly behind him when he sits out on the balcony. He dials Alan's number, without knowing if he wants advice or absolution.
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| It was summertime, we had too much time. |
[19 Jul 2006|05:35pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 lost |
] |
| [ |
music |
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John Elliot - 'Back Where I Was' |
] |
From here.
The walk from Starbucks to the nearest ice rink is where Caleb most struggles with his thoughts. It’s not contemplation – by far too placid a word. Turmoil then, with a veneer of contemplation. Studied calm and ringing in his ears.
( Read more... )
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[18 May 2006|10:07pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 uneasy |
] |
OOC: Thanks so much to whoever gave me a year's paid time. You're awesome and you've inadvertantly kickstarted me back into writing. Cheers to you!
The Black Jewel Like Night Grows Late.
( The hotel room is quiet. )
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