Grounded [Everett]
Aug 15, 2013 0:17:31 GMT -5
Post by Mike Batista on Aug 15, 2013 0:17:31 GMT -5
As one of the older members of the faculty, Mike had been around long enough that it was becoming routine for him to greet former students as fellow staff. Some of the younger ones had a hard time not calling him Mr. Batista, and Mike didn't push it, remembering how strange it had been for him. It would come in time, or it wouldn't. It ultimately didn't matter, as long as they were comfortable.
It was hot and humid, but Mike didn't mind. The influx of new students had him using his containment fields a great deal during training, and he welcomed the heat. In jeans, a red, short-sleeved polo shirt, and worn sneakers, Mike cleaned the grit off his glasses while he waited for his coffee to cool. He'd dropped an ice cube into the cup, mixed with the cream and sugar. The water would dilute the liquid as well, sometimes his heartburn acted up if he drank coffee straight these days. Getting old wasn't for sissies, as his brother Julio said. He couldn't say that one in public anymore, not with what the last word implied these days, but Mike knew what he meant.
On the tables were a few offerings from other staff, but Mike bypassed those for a baggie of low-sodium Triscuits and cheese he'd packed. Mike had become more conscious of what he ate back in his thirties, knowing the earlier he started watching things the longer he'd be able to enjoy a glass of brandy after dinner and indulge in his mother's carne asada.
When the door opened, Mike broke into a grin. "Everett!"
It was hot and humid, but Mike didn't mind. The influx of new students had him using his containment fields a great deal during training, and he welcomed the heat. In jeans, a red, short-sleeved polo shirt, and worn sneakers, Mike cleaned the grit off his glasses while he waited for his coffee to cool. He'd dropped an ice cube into the cup, mixed with the cream and sugar. The water would dilute the liquid as well, sometimes his heartburn acted up if he drank coffee straight these days. Getting old wasn't for sissies, as his brother Julio said. He couldn't say that one in public anymore, not with what the last word implied these days, but Mike knew what he meant.
On the tables were a few offerings from other staff, but Mike bypassed those for a baggie of low-sodium Triscuits and cheese he'd packed. Mike had become more conscious of what he ate back in his thirties, knowing the earlier he started watching things the longer he'd be able to enjoy a glass of brandy after dinner and indulge in his mother's carne asada.
When the door opened, Mike broke into a grin. "Everett!"
