It's a terrible feeling, waking up when you realize
that your feet have gone and walked off with you,
without your permission, that feeling is significantly
doubled when the first thing you can remember
before hand was stepping off of a rather short
flight.
So it's with a start, and a short gasp that Will comes
back to himself, no bag, no suitcase, but at least
his shoes were still on this time. But the winter
chill has him shaking and his hands numb. He can
only guess that he's been walking for hours with
how little he can feel of his body, despite the winter
coat and thick thermal jeans.
There's something ahead of him, lights, stories tall,
drifting in and out of the snow in a way that almost
made him doubt their existence. But he could see the
shape of a well trimmed hedge, the daunting spikes
and metal work of an overly expensive front gate.
The panic that had been coming off of him in waves
for the last few seconds of full consciousness has
all but gone now, replaced by a small amount of fear
and great heaping of confusion. The house couldn't
be that far off, he'd walked out into somewhere
beyond the suburbs.
So he continues on towards the lights, severely wishing
it were his own little house, alone in the white sea of
snow, but fully aware that he was hundreds of miles
away now.
gummygunk
2087
dailybridgerton
blakekathryn
germansingergirl
tangentwithtanner
