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estdeus_innobis2009-01-26 10:22 am
lokan-banderez.livejournal.com) wrote in estdeus_innobis2009-01-26 10:22 am
There’s something deep inside of me; There’s someone else I’ve got to be
Day 98, Sunday, September 6th, early dawn hours: Doctor's Office
Standing, I clap the dust from my hands and stretch the kinks out of my back. The coverings over the windows are secure enough not to let the dawn's light in, but I feel it in the sapping of strength from my limbs. I may be disinclined to manual labor, but if I must at least I do it well. For what was obviously used as a storage room, it is looking very well indeed.The heavy oak desk faces the door to the waiting room and soft leather covered couch. Throw pillows, a small rug, framed diagrams of phrenology, and a bookcase of pre-war psychology and what was amusingly called 'self-help' books complete the picture to the world. Now if I can find a bust for my desk, a few lamps, and a good source of paper for my files...
Before reaching for my sunglasses, I review my appearance in the mirror. Eyes are still a mundane brown thanks to the other changes wrought upon me. Yet my black hair is still long, and silky, body trim, face sharp and impeccable. Yes, I can continue to hunt even with my current disabilities. This town even seems civilized, a library always speaks well for a town's outlook in these days. Electricity is an even rarer indulgence. Sliding my darkened glasses onto my face, I place my business cards into their case with a smile. Professionals must have all the trappings.
Picking the last box of files that previously occupied this room, I back out of my door. There should be just enough space in the closet of the waiting room if I shove it closed...
[Open to Lucien & Tez] Closed.
Standing, I clap the dust from my hands and stretch the kinks out of my back. The coverings over the windows are secure enough not to let the dawn's light in, but I feel it in the sapping of strength from my limbs. I may be disinclined to manual labor, but if I must at least I do it well. For what was obviously used as a storage room, it is looking very well indeed.The heavy oak desk faces the door to the waiting room and soft leather covered couch. Throw pillows, a small rug, framed diagrams of phrenology, and a bookcase of pre-war psychology and what was amusingly called 'self-help' books complete the picture to the world. Now if I can find a bust for my desk, a few lamps, and a good source of paper for my files...
Before reaching for my sunglasses, I review my appearance in the mirror. Eyes are still a mundane brown thanks to the other changes wrought upon me. Yet my black hair is still long, and silky, body trim, face sharp and impeccable. Yes, I can continue to hunt even with my current disabilities. This town even seems civilized, a library always speaks well for a town's outlook in these days. Electricity is an even rarer indulgence. Sliding my darkened glasses onto my face, I place my business cards into their case with a smile. Professionals must have all the trappings.
Picking the last box of files that previously occupied this room, I back out of my door. There should be just enough space in the closet of the waiting room if I shove it closed...