Back to the meaning, back to the meaning of wolf and man

[john-thiess.livejournal.com]

Day 103, Friday, September 11
Done with the day
The Post Office

The rest 'a the week ain't bin near so fun as the picnic. Tess sat me down after 'n made me go through everythin' as happened while I bin here. I kept off 'a some bits, like Conley 'n the Grindhouse, and runnin' with the hound god. The first one still makes me sick, deep down, and the second... well. She wouldn't understand. So I focused on the Carnival, tellin' her 'bout the fight, and 'bout the witch. Told her 'bout the gods. Dunt know how much 'v it she believed, but I ain't seen her too much this week, so she's lookin' in t'stuff anyways.

And Gaueko. Yeah. I warned her 'bout him. Told her not t'go out alone after dark, 'cause I heard he prowls about. Dint tell her how I know, just told her t'be careful. I think she got how serious I was, 'cause she gave me a kiss on the forehead 'n told me she'd not wander about after dark. I know she's got a stubborn streak, but I done what I can. Maybe smellin' a bit like me'll help keep her safe.

Feels weird, worryin' 'bout her, 'stead 'a the other way 'round.

She come by a couple times, but fer the most part I was workin'. Mr. White seems happy but distracted. I think he's a bit nervous 'bout the election, 'cause he kept givin' instructions, 'n then forgettin' what he told us. But he's bin real nice, so it ain't bin a big deal. Just means by the time Friday rolls 'round I'm ready t'go relax.

I got t'stop off by the Post Office, 'cause Tess gave me a note t'send back. Says she's gonna be longer in town than she'd thought, which'll make Ma worry 'n Pa mad. Nothin' t'be done 'bout it, though. I walk in through the stables. I got in the habit when I was sleepin' in their loft, 'n I like passin' the horses. I dunt touch 'em, cause they dunt really like me, but they're nice.

It's kinda dim inside, and with the light and the smell 'a the horses and the hay I mistake the figure tendin' one 'a stall. "Evenin' Samuel," I call out. He turns, and I stop, 'cause he ain't Samuel, not at all, and I feel guilty and worried all at once. "Um. Sorry. Yer Luke, right?" My hand drops almost on its own t'run 'cross where that bullet tore. Barely a mark on me, now.

[Open to Luke]
[Closed]

Back to the meaning, back to the meaning of wolf and man

[john-thiess.livejournal.com]

Day 103, Friday, September 11
Done with the day
The Post Office

The rest 'a the week ain't bin near so fun as the picnic. Tess sat me down after 'n made me go through everythin' as happened while I bin here. I kept off 'a some bits, like Conley 'n the Grindhouse, and runnin' with the hound god. The first one still makes me sick, deep down, and the second... well. She wouldn't understand. So I focused on the Carnival, tellin' her 'bout the fight, and 'bout the witch. Told her 'bout the gods. Dunt know how much 'v it she believed, but I ain't seen her too much this week, so she's lookin' in t'stuff anyways.

And Gaueko. Yeah. I warned her 'bout him. Told her not t'go out alone after dark, 'cause I heard he prowls about. Dint tell her how I know, just told her t'be careful. I think she got how serious I was, 'cause she gave me a kiss on the forehead 'n told me she'd not wander about after dark. I know she's got a stubborn streak, but I done what I can. Maybe smellin' a bit like me'll help keep her safe.

Feels weird, worryin' 'bout her, 'stead 'a the other way 'round.

She come by a couple times, but fer the most part I was workin'. Mr. White seems happy but distracted. I think he's a bit nervous 'bout the election, 'cause he kept givin' instructions, 'n then forgettin' what he told us. But he's bin real nice, so it ain't bin a big deal. Just means by the time Friday rolls 'round I'm ready t'go relax.

I got t'stop off by the Post Office, 'cause Tess gave me a note t'send back. Says she's gonna be longer in town than she'd thought, which'll make Ma worry 'n Pa mad. Nothin' t'be done 'bout it, though. I walk in through the stables. I got in the habit when I was sleepin' in their loft, 'n I like passin' the horses. I dunt touch 'em, cause they dunt really like me, but they're nice.

It's kinda dim inside, and with the light and the smell 'a the horses and the hay I mistake the figure tendin' one 'a stall. "Evenin' Samuel," I call out. He turns, and I stop, 'cause he ain't Samuel, not at all, and I feel guilty and worried all at once. "Um. Sorry. Yer Luke, right?" My hand drops almost on its own t'run 'cross where that bullet tore. Barely a mark on me, now.

[Open to Luke]
[Closed]