Post by thelori24 on Nov 21, 2016 3:59:22 GMT
Sam sat at the top of the landing of the narrow stairway, hat on the banister, flask in hand. He'd already had too much tonight and he was going to pay for it tomorrow but he wasn't sure he really cared right now. Outside he could hear firecrackers being lit off, people celebrating and shouting in the streets. Happy fucking 1924 everyone, he thought with another pull from the flask.
He'd left the party early, walked the streets for a while but it was too cold and too crowded to keep comfortably doing that beyond the first hour or two and not in the mood to celebrate further he'd headed back to his building. But he didn't really feel like just going in and going to bed either. So here he sat. He didn't worry about being in anyone's way even though he took up most of the width of the stairs. There were only three doors on this floor, one was his, one neighbor he knew probably wouldn't drag home at least until daylight, and the other by sharp contrast was probably already in bed and would complain tomorrow about people making too much noise. She didn't hold with all these new fangled ideas like people drinking, partying, wearing short skirts, keeping company with the opposite sex, staying up past 9pm...she really didn't like Sam, no doubt thinking of him as some godless heathen, but for reasons he'd never understood her and Sarah got along famously so he let it be.
The evening had left him bothered though, and he couldn't shake it. It had been weird from pretty much start to finish, from getting propositioned, how he'd come dangerously close to punching out a Shimada, how he didn't know what to do with all these mixed up things he was feeling about Harriet. His life never used to be this complicated...how had his life gotten this fucking complicated? He used to think life back home was tedious...right now, he kind of missed it. How many people would really miss him if he just picked up and went back to Wyoming? Really?
He'd left the party early, walked the streets for a while but it was too cold and too crowded to keep comfortably doing that beyond the first hour or two and not in the mood to celebrate further he'd headed back to his building. But he didn't really feel like just going in and going to bed either. So here he sat. He didn't worry about being in anyone's way even though he took up most of the width of the stairs. There were only three doors on this floor, one was his, one neighbor he knew probably wouldn't drag home at least until daylight, and the other by sharp contrast was probably already in bed and would complain tomorrow about people making too much noise. She didn't hold with all these new fangled ideas like people drinking, partying, wearing short skirts, keeping company with the opposite sex, staying up past 9pm...she really didn't like Sam, no doubt thinking of him as some godless heathen, but for reasons he'd never understood her and Sarah got along famously so he let it be.
The evening had left him bothered though, and he couldn't shake it. It had been weird from pretty much start to finish, from getting propositioned, how he'd come dangerously close to punching out a Shimada, how he didn't know what to do with all these mixed up things he was feeling about Harriet. His life never used to be this complicated...how had his life gotten this fucking complicated? He used to think life back home was tedious...right now, he kind of missed it. How many people would really miss him if he just picked up and went back to Wyoming? Really?
