chosehumanity (
chosehumanity) wrote2010-11-18 01:26 pm
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A Pink Corner House, Bristol, Thursday Morning
For about the hundredth time that week, Mitchell woke up in a bed. This time, though, it was the familiar, comfortable embrace of his own bed he was feeling, heavy blankets bunched up over his chest, and posters of old movie stars greeting him with their dazzling fake smiles. He blinked up at the ceiling, then relaxed.
There was still strength in his limbs. Which meant that Josie-- He aborted that thought. There were other things to focus on, other things swimming back into sharpness. Something-- someone-- someone was talking.
"...Annie, hand me the bandages."
George's face appeared briefly above his head. Mitchell blinked again, but he seemed to be firmly on this earth this time.
[[ for anyone still left in Bristol to say goodbye, and/or for myself. ]]
There was still strength in his limbs. Which meant that Josie-- He aborted that thought. There were other things to focus on, other things swimming back into sharpness. Something-- someone-- someone was talking.
"...Annie, hand me the bandages."
George's face appeared briefly above his head. Mitchell blinked again, but he seemed to be firmly on this earth this time.
[[ for anyone still left in Bristol to say goodbye, and/or for myself. ]]
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"Portalocity promised to keep from fucking up, this time."
... She was calm and subdued enough now, but they may have heard her raising her voice at the poor person on the other end of the line a couple of minutes earlier.
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His eyes slid to George briefly.
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So, it was kind of late for that.
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George held up his hands and took a step back.
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... He'd missed Kate. A bit.