Had A Dream It Was All A Dream (Sean)
Sept 26, 2011 17:50:02 GMT -5
Post by Joshua Bernstein on Sept 26, 2011 17:50:02 GMT -5
Sailing was one of life's greatest pleasures. Sailing with Sean, supplied with alcohol and sandwiches, was even better. And better still was the fact that they were now reconciled, had been for over a month now.
They'd discussed taking Sean's boat out again during the reconciliation, in fact, and had finally (after horrible weather and business) found the time to do so.
The weather was nice, if a bit brisk and cool, but it was fall and that was to be expected. The leaves were golden and crimson, making the tops of the trees look as if they were on fire, and the air smelled of falling leaves and a hint of smoke -- someone had a bonfire going nearby.
He ought to have been happy.
This was what he wanted, to spend his free time with Sean doing activities they both enjoyed. In fact, he'd been the one to suggest sailing in the first place, precisely because he thought it would make him happy.
And yet instead of pleasure he felt anxiety.
Anxiety wasn't a new feeling for him, of course, but this particular situation ought not to have aroused such feelings. He didn't even have to worry about accidentally waking up with Sean in the morning, because they were together again and they could do so on purpose and without the aid of beer.
He hadn't been feeling well lately, though, and he supposed the anxiety was probably related to that. I was probably stress at work, and nothing to worry himself over.
The smell of fall, particularly of mulch and leaves and woods and loam, had been causing him to tense up more and more, and he had been feeling awkward around Emma, even though she was a lovely young woman and willing to share cigarettes with him, and sometimes he felt so exhausted and drained he withdrew into his personal bedroom rather than staying with Sean.
But it was surely just the Sullivan case getting to him; it was taking up so much more time than he'd initially thought it would.
But rather than share such depressing thoughts on such a beautiful day he popped the tab off a beer and raised it in Sean's direction, tipping his head. "I propose a toast to Captain Neville for not capsizing us after such a long shore leave."
They'd discussed taking Sean's boat out again during the reconciliation, in fact, and had finally (after horrible weather and business) found the time to do so.
The weather was nice, if a bit brisk and cool, but it was fall and that was to be expected. The leaves were golden and crimson, making the tops of the trees look as if they were on fire, and the air smelled of falling leaves and a hint of smoke -- someone had a bonfire going nearby.
He ought to have been happy.
This was what he wanted, to spend his free time with Sean doing activities they both enjoyed. In fact, he'd been the one to suggest sailing in the first place, precisely because he thought it would make him happy.
And yet instead of pleasure he felt anxiety.
Anxiety wasn't a new feeling for him, of course, but this particular situation ought not to have aroused such feelings. He didn't even have to worry about accidentally waking up with Sean in the morning, because they were together again and they could do so on purpose and without the aid of beer.
He hadn't been feeling well lately, though, and he supposed the anxiety was probably related to that. I was probably stress at work, and nothing to worry himself over.
The smell of fall, particularly of mulch and leaves and woods and loam, had been causing him to tense up more and more, and he had been feeling awkward around Emma, even though she was a lovely young woman and willing to share cigarettes with him, and sometimes he felt so exhausted and drained he withdrew into his personal bedroom rather than staying with Sean.
But it was surely just the Sullivan case getting to him; it was taking up so much more time than he'd initially thought it would.
But rather than share such depressing thoughts on such a beautiful day he popped the tab off a beer and raised it in Sean's direction, tipping his head. "I propose a toast to Captain Neville for not capsizing us after such a long shore leave."
