For Carla Jean

[ferretface_git]

It was becoming increasingly clear that he'd lost all direction in his life.

While he'd managed to survive on Darrow's meager stipend, but it was a bare sort of existence, and while he'd had years on the island to become accustomed to such a life, he felt oddly dissatisfied and directionless in his leisure.

That afternoon, he found himself standing in front of a coffee shop bulletin board, perusing fliers and advertisements, lost pets and calls for roommates. On the board, he found an announcement of art classes at the community college; in particularly, glass blowing. He'd been self taught, largely, but it was a reminder of a life he'd left behind on the island, and skills he'd assumed he'd never need again. With a frown, he tore from the flier one of the little information tabs, a time and address and required fees.

He didn't particularly plan to use it, but he found himself unable to ignore it, all together, and distracted by his nostalgia, he turned blindly, unmindful of whomever might've been standing behind him.

Comments

[refusedtocall]

"Hey, careful," Carla Jean says, a warning rather than an admonishment, as she takes a quick step back, mostly to avoid spilling the coffee she's just purchased. Ordinarily, she'd think it a little excessive, spending so much on an overpriced drink when she can just make coffee in her apartment, but she'd been out already, and in this weather, a cold rain falling steadily, she thinks it's pretty called for. "Somethin' on there distracting?"