Post by MASASHI SHIROKANE on Jan 15, 2012 0:55:30 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true] | [atrb=vAlign,top][style=margin-top:5px; width: 100px; font-family: georgia; font-size: 10px; text-align: center; font-weight: bold; background-color: #2a2a2a; color: #f9f9f9; text-transform: uppercase; padding: 6px;] [/style] | [atrb=vAlign,top][style=width: 305px; margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 10px; padding-left: 5px; border-left: 0px dotted #b3b3b3;]It was just one of those nights -- he, slumped on a park bench at twelve-thirty in the morning, holding a melting ice cream cone. He'd taken the night off to run some errands and catch up on payments. He'd done a little reading and thought out a meal for himself, watched some television and slipped into bed to end a day of relaxation. It only took thirty minutes of staring at the ceiling for Masashi to realize that his day was not over. Perhaps the curry wasn't sitting well in his stomach, or he remembered that he'd forgotten to pick up some new socks. Whatever the reason, here he was. And so now what? He licked up a dollop of cream, staring at the swings on the other side of the park. Every once in a while, the wind would toss them and the links would jingle. He made a face as a drop of ice cream trickled between his fingers, and promptly wolfed down the rest of the cone. Why did he order french vanilla instead of vanilla, anyway? What was the difference? This one was a little sweeter, a little smoother, but other than that they were practically identical. He sucked on his fingers and leaned his head back. There were no stars tonight. He just wanted to go to sleep. People who took days off spent their nights on dates or unwinding at home. Here he was, in the middle of the night, eating ice cream alone in a park. He snorted wearily at the ridiculousness of it all. Why couldn't he just go home and sleep it off? It didn't matter where he went; they'd still be watching. They were always watching. His chest thrummed once, thrummed dangerously. He couldn't change anything except the flavor of the ice cream he ate. And if french vanilla tasted like vanilla, what was the point?[/style] |