03-20-2008, 03:28 AM
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Set on the 17th if that's okay with you? The sun was just beginning to creep above the horizon, casting a pinkish glow on the snow-dusted building tops of the inner Concrete Jungle. A peculiar and perhaps lovely clash of hard, grey edges and ethereal, cool glows, blemished by a single werewolf at the edge of a flat, three-story building. Small and dark, a patchwork quilt wrapped loosely around her arms and folded legs, creating just enough insulation to keep her from debating the warm, layered bed she kept in the apartment below this roof. She had woken in a daze that felt less real than the dream she had surfaced from, and found her way into fresh air to escape the muddle of thoughts and concerns that followed. She could very simply be crazy. It was probably the most logical answer to the night, considering her family history. Considering her own fumbles and falls. Despite a childhood filled with them, did she really know that ghosts existed? Even if they did, could they do what Hollow had? She rolled her eyes at her own inner dialogue and frowned at the sloppily rolled cigarette, thumbing it in an attempt at correction. But her fingers felt fidgety and disinterested, following the circular path that her mind seemed to be going. He would come back again, if it was really him. If it hadn't have been some kind of intense creation of her own sleeping subconscious. It was that simple, she told herself with a shell of confidence, flicking the Zippo she had recently found to light up the semi-stable cigarette between her fingers. Yeah. Easy-peasy.  | ||