TheImprobableOne
You should have expected this
~Rory~
The Ice burned his hands and numbed them. Drops of seeping moisture soaked the calloused crevasses on his palms and the stinging tears in his flesh began to forget that they used to be whole. Rory took a deep satisfied breath and then the small fistful of ice cubes clanged into the metal kitchen sink. He placed his hand on the edge of the counter and followed it methodically. The dorm room’s bathroom was a straight shot if he walked directly to the right from the kitchen sink. He was still learning his new home. Only two months ago he was in a hospital room in San Bernardino.
In the bathroom he gently lifted the small soap container. ‘Good, feels about half full.’ He thought and dabbed a little soap into his palm. Immediately the synthetic scent of flowers filled his nostrils. More cool water. It felt good on his bruised knuckles and reminded him that he used to train for a reason. Hitting a punching bag was nothing like hitting a real person. ‘I have to be ready to fight again..’ for a second he was filled with the thrill that he used to feel when he was psyching up for a fight. He turned his face towards the mirror that he knew was there and wondered if the scars on his eyes looked intimidating. Who am I kidding?’ He thought. Rory knew that if he got into a real fight now he wouldn’t stand a chance.
After washing his hands he walked back to his desk with a little difficulty. Sometimes the refrigerator made a quiet humming noise like a homing beacon. When it was on, Rory knew exactly where he was. It was his GPS. When it was off however, he had to rely on the much quieter air vents in his ceiling.
His apartment was small. Just three rooms. A bedroom, a small kitchenette with a refrigerator and fake wood cabinets, and a bathroom. It all smelled clean, though Rory knew that there must be smudges on the windows and mirrors. He hadn’t even opened all the little cabinets in the kitchenette. All of his furniture came with the room. A bed with a side table and a little lamp that he never turned on, a wooden dresser, a small wooden desk with a chair. The chair had an extra flat piece on the back legs that supported it when he leaned precariously back. He especially appreciated the chair.
Rory sat down and leaned back. His back pressed against the windbreaker draped over the chair. He heard a car pull up in front of the dorm building but did not think much of it. Instead he rested his hands on the Braille keyboard of his laptop, his fingers brushed against a small usb drive that he had left there the night before. It was his sisters. Suddenly he remembered the time he had spent listening to her on repeat. He picked it up and almost inserted it into his laptop just to listen to her voice one more time.. No. She wants me to move on. The top drawer of his desk rumbled as he opened and closed it and placed the usb on top. Easily accessible.
His phone rang. An automated voice. “Incoming call from ‘Jacob…’ Incoming call from ‘Jacob…” Oh right, time for work. He stood up and grabbed the small backpack off his bed and the windbreaker off his desk. On his way to the door his hand knocked into the corner of his desk but he barely noticed. There were rubber caps on all the sharp edges in his room.
Rory didn't want to waste time fumbling with his phone so he let it ring. “Incoming call from ‘Jacob…” He threw on his jacket and backpack, picked up the white cane from the doorframe and started heading out the door. He paused a moment.. leaned back inside and his hand clumsily wandered around the countertop searching for something. He felt the light metal frame of his aviators, took a moment not to stab himself in the eye while he put them on, and briskly began tapping away as he walked down the hallway towards the exit.
He was on the ground floor — benefits of being a disabled student. And made it to the parking lot just as his phone finished ringing. He hoped J would see him come out and not mind him ignoring the phone call.
As soon as he opened the door to the dorm his lungs were filled with the cool Maine air. It was October and he could still taste the rain from yesterday, though it wasn’t raining. The breeze smelt like earthy leaf piles and something that was almost cinnamon mixed with the gasoline from J’s car.
It was colder than he expected so Rory paused to take a faded green scarf out of his bag and draped it across his shoulders.
“Hey J! You here or what?” He spoke with a little sarcasm and smiled.
ekoutrakos
The Ice burned his hands and numbed them. Drops of seeping moisture soaked the calloused crevasses on his palms and the stinging tears in his flesh began to forget that they used to be whole. Rory took a deep satisfied breath and then the small fistful of ice cubes clanged into the metal kitchen sink. He placed his hand on the edge of the counter and followed it methodically. The dorm room’s bathroom was a straight shot if he walked directly to the right from the kitchen sink. He was still learning his new home. Only two months ago he was in a hospital room in San Bernardino.
In the bathroom he gently lifted the small soap container. ‘Good, feels about half full.’ He thought and dabbed a little soap into his palm. Immediately the synthetic scent of flowers filled his nostrils. More cool water. It felt good on his bruised knuckles and reminded him that he used to train for a reason. Hitting a punching bag was nothing like hitting a real person. ‘I have to be ready to fight again..’ for a second he was filled with the thrill that he used to feel when he was psyching up for a fight. He turned his face towards the mirror that he knew was there and wondered if the scars on his eyes looked intimidating. Who am I kidding?’ He thought. Rory knew that if he got into a real fight now he wouldn’t stand a chance.
After washing his hands he walked back to his desk with a little difficulty. Sometimes the refrigerator made a quiet humming noise like a homing beacon. When it was on, Rory knew exactly where he was. It was his GPS. When it was off however, he had to rely on the much quieter air vents in his ceiling.
His apartment was small. Just three rooms. A bedroom, a small kitchenette with a refrigerator and fake wood cabinets, and a bathroom. It all smelled clean, though Rory knew that there must be smudges on the windows and mirrors. He hadn’t even opened all the little cabinets in the kitchenette. All of his furniture came with the room. A bed with a side table and a little lamp that he never turned on, a wooden dresser, a small wooden desk with a chair. The chair had an extra flat piece on the back legs that supported it when he leaned precariously back. He especially appreciated the chair.
Rory sat down and leaned back. His back pressed against the windbreaker draped over the chair. He heard a car pull up in front of the dorm building but did not think much of it. Instead he rested his hands on the Braille keyboard of his laptop, his fingers brushed against a small usb drive that he had left there the night before. It was his sisters. Suddenly he remembered the time he had spent listening to her on repeat. He picked it up and almost inserted it into his laptop just to listen to her voice one more time.. No. She wants me to move on. The top drawer of his desk rumbled as he opened and closed it and placed the usb on top. Easily accessible.
His phone rang. An automated voice. “Incoming call from ‘Jacob…’ Incoming call from ‘Jacob…” Oh right, time for work. He stood up and grabbed the small backpack off his bed and the windbreaker off his desk. On his way to the door his hand knocked into the corner of his desk but he barely noticed. There were rubber caps on all the sharp edges in his room.
Rory didn't want to waste time fumbling with his phone so he let it ring. “Incoming call from ‘Jacob…” He threw on his jacket and backpack, picked up the white cane from the doorframe and started heading out the door. He paused a moment.. leaned back inside and his hand clumsily wandered around the countertop searching for something. He felt the light metal frame of his aviators, took a moment not to stab himself in the eye while he put them on, and briskly began tapping away as he walked down the hallway towards the exit.
He was on the ground floor — benefits of being a disabled student. And made it to the parking lot just as his phone finished ringing. He hoped J would see him come out and not mind him ignoring the phone call.
As soon as he opened the door to the dorm his lungs were filled with the cool Maine air. It was October and he could still taste the rain from yesterday, though it wasn’t raining. The breeze smelt like earthy leaf piles and something that was almost cinnamon mixed with the gasoline from J’s car.
It was colder than he expected so Rory paused to take a faded green scarf out of his bag and draped it across his shoulders.
“Hey J! You here or what?” He spoke with a little sarcasm and smiled.
ekoutrakos