toxicspiderman: A photo of an irregular spiderweb. (this is your brain on coffee)
Sangamon Taylor ([personal profile] toxicspiderman) wrote in [community profile] damned_institute 2012-05-02 01:19 am (UTC)

S.T. grabbed a window seat on the bus. Getting on first meant putting up with whoever sat next to him.

Then again, in this scenario, he was probably the twitchy old crazy guy who would talk your ear off. He wasn't drunk, or high, but a month without regular coffee and his body had detoxed enough that a quart or so of high-test had his fingers tapping on his knee.

The buses were on time, which wasn't quite a disappointment. Zombies were becoming old hat. Even if he'd never been big into hunting. It was simple. Bash their heads in or die. No mystical shit or false hope. The geek usually bit it halfway through.

The wind had hit at least twenty, twenty-five knots out there. The windows were creaking, and the trees in the part were thrashing. Not enough to make it dangerous on land. Unless you were a sentient umbrella. He hadn't met any of those here yet.

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