I watch him carefully, as I finish my sandwich, at the way he tosses the trumpet aside. His fingers look a little stiff, not something worth commenting on, but still something I note.
I flop to the floor beside him, right pressed up against his side. One of my legs is bent, the other outstretched, and I lean back against the mast with him.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2012-10-22 04:08 am (UTC)I flop to the floor beside him, right pressed up against his side. One of my legs is bent, the other outstretched, and I lean back against the mast with him.
"You look cold."