[ The heft of a good, solid rock in his palm would have been welcoming, but his fists closed upon nothing as he stills and listens, holding back the urge to fight that has gotten himself killed on more than one occasion. One foot shuffles against wet grass as he turns facing the bush, just enough to make a sound. Prey would stay still and silent, as would a predator. Only the unconcerned and oblivious would continue about their day as if he didn't exist, didn't matter. He envies them, sometimes.
Eyes on the bush, he moves quickly but not hurriedly, parallel to where he knows the forest edge lies just on the other side of the handful of trees thick enough to hide the city park and preserve this nostalgia he still clings to.
Soon he'll be in sprinting range of the public bathroom. At the back of the bathroom is a faucet, hose connected at one end and its length sprawled in a tangle across the trampled grass, too heavy to drag with him but nothing a thumb over the end won't solve. This is how we check if Laurel is hiding in the bushes if we can't find him at the end of the day, it sometimes works. ]
no subject
Eyes on the bush, he moves quickly but not hurriedly, parallel to where he knows the forest edge lies just on the other side of the handful of trees thick enough to hide the city park and preserve this nostalgia he still clings to.
Soon he'll be in sprinting range of the public bathroom. At the back of the bathroom is a faucet, hose connected at one end and its length sprawled in a tangle across the trampled grass, too heavy to drag with him but nothing a thumb over the end won't solve. This is how we check if Laurel is hiding in the bushes if we can't find him at the end of the day, it sometimes works. ]