wililam montgomery "monty" + 28 + Oxford war vet + professor

perhaps, when we remember wars, we should take off our clothes and paint ourselves blue and go on all fours all day long and grunt like pigs. that would surely be more appropriate than noble oratory and shows of flags and well-oiled guns.

[franfran-odonovan-blog]

Fran swallowed. “You do a have a point there, professor.” The title just felt right to her. After four years of referring to almost everyone by their rank she just fell into it. It was a good way not to get so attached to people. Fran didn’t know if she wanted to get attached to William or if she was ever allowed to. Besides Camilla, he was a co-worker and there were rules about that, no?

“It’s very…” She chewed her tongue trying to find the right word. The word that came to mind was boring. After all, she mostly just sat alone in her office, but that was a rude response. Plus it would beg the question why she didn’t take up a job at the hospital. He might even argue she should go to London since that is where she received her nursing training– or one of the dozens of other cities that needed nurses. “Calm,” she settled on finally. “Hard to complain about it,” Fran thought aloud. And save for her eight-hour days being akin to watching paint dry, it was true.

“I was never the best with history,” Fran admitted. “I just found it tiring. Though I was good at remembering the dates.” She had to remember all 206 bones. Remembering when Waterloo wasn’t much of a challenge for her mind. “I always thought the class would be better if they told stories instead of just prattled on about politics…” Bookworm she was not but who didn’t love a good story? Especially one with kings and queens.

[montgomerywilliam-blog]

William hesitated when she didn’t smile -- had he said something offensive? Or was she just that uncomfortable around him? Her calling him “professor” seemed to make the answer quite obvious. He cleared his throat, “Just call me Wiliam.” He paused before offering another smile. Maybe she was acting strange around him because of Camilla. Perhaps she’d told her friend something about him that made her uncomfortable?

He nodded. “Well, I guess that’s good.” William could only imagine the change of pace between, say, a hospital and the school. As far as he knew, students rarely visited the nurse for very serious things -- usually just colds and maybe the flu. He figured they mostly had to have a nurse because of some requirement. “Do you enjoy working with the students, though?”

“Students have actually told me that before,” William confessed. “I guess it depends a lot on the professor. I like to think I make history interesting, but I’ll let them be the judge of that.” He shrugged, “When I used to teach lower level classes, many of my students didn’t see why we study history at all. It’s not as practical as studying science and medicine.” He smiled and nodded, “I definitely agree. Most things are better in the form of a story. Easier to remember, too.”

[dearicarxs]

Nathan just read over the file in his hands for a brief moment wanting to familiarize himself with it before delving into things. Thankfully he was a rather quick reader, and he was gifted with an eidetic memory which was both a blessing and a curse. He absorbed all the information he read and stored it for a later date, but it also meant he couldn’t shake images out of his head either, and there were many he’d like to forget.

“It shouldn’t take no more than thirty minutes, I will be asking you questions you are free to pass on any as I can not make you answer anything you don’t wish to. But none of them are too terribly personal, most just regard your lifestyle.” He informed.”This appointment will consist of  checking your height, weight,  heart rate, blood pressure, breathing, reflexes, along with  checking for any inflammation if your organs, which I promise isn`t as complicated as it sounds.” He told him with a genuine smile. “I also see in your file that you sustained an injury to your shoulder so later I’d also like to take a look at that.” He told him, figuring it was always best to know what was going to happen than to wonder what was going to come next. “I’m going to start with your blood pressure so if you could hold your arm out that would be brilliant.” He stood up from his chair, and picked up the pump and wrap from some of the tools lining the wall, taking the section of it that wrapped around the arm and placing it carefully on the other’s biceps fastening it in place. “You’re going to feel some pressure, but this won’t hurt.” He told him starting to pump the attached ball in his hand causing air to float through the tube and start to  inflate the band to briefly cut off circulation. “Alright Mr.Montgomery, are you a smoker? If yes how much do you smoke on a regular basis? The same question stands for drinking as well.” He asked, always a fan of asking the questions slowly while during the waiting period of tasks rather than saving them and spending an extra ten minutes at the end to ask them.” 

[montgomerywilliam-blog]

William listened as the doctor explained in detail what the appointment would consist of. He had to wonder if these check-ups got boring; they seemed rather mundane, doing the same things to different people. However, this doctor seemed to either enjoy his job or be in an exceptionally good mood. “That all sounds good to me,” William remarked. He chuckled, wondering what kind of questions the doctor would ask that William could possible deem “too personal” to answer. He’d lived in the barracks with hundreds of other men for months at a time -- it was there that he lost any sense of privacy. “The shoulder? Oh, it doesn’t bother me anymore. It’s really probably not worth checking out.” The scar was quite ugly.

 William complied with the doctor’s orders, holding out his arm as the doctor fastened the fabric around his bicep. He nodded, motioning for the doctor to go ahead and measure his blood pressure. “Yeah, I smoke. I’m cutting down, though, so just about one a day.” He didn’t smoke until he enlisted, and during the war, it became less like a habit and more like a part of him. Now that he was home, though, he was trying to cut it out. Supposedly smoking turned your lungs black or something. “I drink on weekends. And at night, sometimes, if I have a rough day.” Though he’d answered the smoking question truthfully, his last answer was a bit misleading. Most days were rough for him, so most days he ended up drinking. He’d already labeled himself a smoker, though, so there was no need to confess to being an alcoholic as well.

[ireneayre-deactivated20180514]

Irene seemed to wave off his apology with a shrug. None of it really mattered now. She was going to be late, much to the misfortune of her publisher, but he’d manage on his own. As long as he received the chapter in full. “It’s no worry– I stepped on one or two myself.” She took the papers from his hand and stuffed them behind the ones she’d salvaged. “Thank you. It’s just my luck to come outside and make a nuisance of myself.” It wasn’t even like it was uncommon for her to, but it wasn’t the time or the place to admit it.

Looking away from the man’s sympathetic gaze, she counted quickly. Where was one hundred and fifty-six? Please, she pleaded with whoever was looking down from the heavens, give me just a moment of normalcy. She frowned, and took a look around her, trying to find the runaway page. “I’m missing one or two. I’m terribly sorry– would you help me look? I think I saw one under that bush over there.”

[montgomerywilliam-blog]

Willam pushed his hair back and offered a smile to the woman. “You’re no nuisance, this could have happened to anyone,” he reassured her. He watched as the woman stuffed the pages behind each other somewhat haphazardly. She had to be late for something, William figured. He scanned the area -- did he see another one of her papers over to the left?

He watched as she frantically thumbed through the pages. There must be some missing. Without missing a beat, William nodded at the woman’s request. “Yes, of course. You’re not a bother at all.” He took three long strides to the bush, retrieving another page. “How many more are you missing?” he asked as he handed it over.

[mollyxblake]

Mallory smiled, scooping Alice up. Her daughter was usually so excited to meet everyone, even strangers, that seeing her so shy was odd. The little girl stuck her thumb in her mouth, watching the man warily. She leaned up to whisper something into Mallory’s ear.

Mallory chuckled at her daughter’s question. “That’s Will, darling. Do you want to say hello?” Setting the baby down, she watched her toddle towards William, solemnly extending a chubby little hand for him to shake.

“I know. I-it’s-” She sighed softly, avoiding eye contact. “It is strange. For everyone, I think. It must be for you. I know it is for me, William.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ears, turning to busy herself with the stove.

“It would be wonderful if you could.” Mallory volunteered, pretending not to notice how desperate he sounded. “There really isn’t much.” Something occurred to her as she watched him struggle. “Although, I just put the kettle on. I’d like the company if you wanted to stay for tea. I don’t get many visitors.”

[montgomerywilliam-blog]

William formed a warm smile towards the little girl. For some reason, her hesitation was endearing to her. He knelt to the floor, lowering his tall frame to the girl’s level and gently took her small hand in his and gave it a very slight shake. 

His eyes crinkled at the edges in a way they hadn’t in a long time. Alice’s innocence and solemnity made him feel something different -- a sort of warmness in his chest. The feeling felt vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t recall from what. “It’s lovely to see you again, Alice,” he said. 

William cleared his throat and stood up, facing the kitchen once more. His eyes were drawn to the hole in the ceiling; how long had it been there? He stopped, seeing her thin frame out of his peripheral vision but not turning to look her in the eye. “Mallory -- I’m sorry,” he offered, meekly. William knew it wasn’t much, but he hadn’t said it  yet. That was something you were supposed to say, right?

He pushed his hair back, turning to look at Mallory’s face. He smiled at her proposition. “Of course I’ll stay.” William silently promised himself that he’d find something else to help with while he stayed. “How has it been? In town, I mean. I feel like I’m wearing a scarlet letter.” He’d felt strange ever since he’d gotten back, like people were constantly watching him. He couldn’t imagine how much worse it was for Mallory. 

[casreynolds-blog1]

Cas didn’t hoe the shop on Sunday, no one came to the store on a Sunday so there was no point and usually by the time Sunday rolled around, he was in the mood to do either of two things: Drink or paint. Right now, this is a drinking Sunday. 

He had his coat wrapped around him as he made his way to the bar. It got colder here in England much faster than in America and he was still trying to get used to that. Good thing he didn’t mind the cold too much. 

Cas could relate to the irony of finding love after the war. He was suppose to have it, he was suppose to have a girl on his arm and pushing a stroller down the street in the autumn weather, but that wasn’t happening. He didn’t even get a secret boyfriend. He didn’t even get to know that that secret lover got to live a long and happy life. He was buried in Normandy. 

“’Noon,” Cas replied as he took a seat next to William. There was no need to be cordial, to pretend they were normal. They understood that about each other. Cas ordered a whiskey and cocked a brow at his companion. “Beautiful day as ever,” he responded as he lit his own cigarette. They could also smoke together which was fine by him. 

[montgomerywilliam-blog]

William acknowledged Cas’ presence with a nod, barely lifting his head. Such was their routine. Oftentimes, William found himself in the bar at the same time as the other man -- Cas he’d been called by the bartender. The two men rarely talked, instead settling into a comfortable silence broken only by puffs of smoke and the clinking of glass.

It was a sort of understood agreement that seemed to be more popular among the men in Port Clearwater: if you don’t ask about me, I won’t ask about you. This evasive technique worked more times than not. It was the women you had to watch for, they always wanted to know about the war. If you’d gotten to travel or if you’d killed someone. Both equally dangerous questions for the men.

William chuckled, a dark, grumbling sound escaping his lips. “Alcohol makes prettier,” he stated, taking a sip of his own drink as if to prove his point. “Long week?” William noted the man’s casual demeanor. Clearly, this was regular, and William wasn’t one to judge. A normal week for him also concluded with alcohol and smoking to blow off steam.

[aioig]

[montgomerywilliam-blog]

nathanmonro:

There was something calming to days like these, where he was doing scheduled appointments. He’d yet to fully decide whether that was a good or a bad thing. He’d gotten so used to working in high stressed environments that he felt like he was constantly in the calm before the storm, just waiting for something bad to happen.

Nathan settled into the chair at the desk, glancing over the file in his hands once more to fully memorize it. “I can do that for you, if you wish to stay an extra five minutes after your appointment I can duplicate my results. But if you don’t have the time I can give them to one of the secretaries to copy and send to you.” He replied. “Alright Mr. Montgomery.” He began remembering the name from his file. “So it looks as though you haven’t had an appointment in a little while, which means I am going to have to check a few extra things that they would have done had you had a previous check-up this year.” He informed. “If you don’t mind please take a seat on the examination table.” 

If he was honest, William didn’t see the need for regular check-ups. Without his sister, he would only go to the doctor in extreme circumstances. He had to admit that it was probably good to be here today, though. He’d sustained very little injury throughout the war, but he did suffer a hit from a piece of shrapnel in his shoulder. It bothered him every now and then -- usually a sign he’d worked it too hard.

William nodded, “Sure, I can wait. Just how long should this take, anyways?” He didn’t have a strict schedule today, he only had one class this morning. He let his eyes wander around the office -- it was small but clean. Every time he’d been to the doctor while he was away, it had either been a tent or a makeshift building. Being at a real doctor’s office was somewhat overwhelming. “What kinds of things do you need to check, exactly?” He complied with the doctor’s request, getting out of his chair. William sat down on the examination table and he felt like an overgrown child. The table was much too small for his tall frame, but he did the best he could.

[montgomerywilliam-blog]

franfran-odonovan:

“Isn’t man not supposed to control nature? I think I read a book that said that. Not literally of course but well…” She managed a weak shrug. “It was clear from the text.” Fran wasn’t much of a bookworm. She couldn’t sit for hours reading like some people could. Once and a while a book would grab her interest– usually something on the best sellers list. But studying had always been torturous for her. How funny that she now worked at a college. She believed to the soles of her feet she only passed nursing school because of all the hands-on work. The war helped as well. She foolishly said she had no issue with being put on the front lines. How old was she then? Twenty? Older than some recruits yes, but not old enough to know better. 

Either way, she knew better than to debate philosophy with any professor, let alone a professor of philosophy. Her eyes snapped back from the papers to his tie. Looking directly at him felt odd. That and there was the issue of his height… Fran didn’t really want to strain her neck just talking about work.  “I feel much the same,” she admitted. “I’m glad there is a window in the infirmary. It’s nice to get some fresh air in there.” The best part about that sad room was the window, which even then wasn’t much of a comfort. It didn’t even have that nice of a view. Fran knew there was nothing anyone could do about it, and complaining would only make her feel worse. So her little window was the best part of her office.

“I wasn’t aware you taught that class. Must be difficult.” She had heard a few students complain about that class. But students complained about every class. Fran had decided if students didn’t complain about the class, it was much too easy to be a course at the college. “Not sure it’s a class I would ever take.”

“Of course not, but just imagine trying to tell that to a man,” William joked. It felt strange to be here, joking around with a woman as if he had no care in the world. Except, well, now he didn’t, really. “But really, you see all these gadgets -- guns and radios and televisions -- but none of that can stop a hurricane. We’ll always be fighting to get the upper hand.” He knew she probably didn’t care, but it felt nice to have someone to talk to about nothing. 

She still wouldn’t meet his eyes. He knew that his stature was imposing -- at 6′5″ he stood over most people he met -- but he’d never thought of himself as particularly intimidating. He smiled as an attempt to seem amiable. “How do you like working there, at the school?” he asked. William knew next to nothing about her and figured it was the polite thing to do as a colleague to ask.

“It’s not too terribly difficult,” he explained with a shrug of his shoulders. “Though, it is specific to history students. I suppose students who don’t like history wouldn’t be too keen on it.” William loved teaching most of the time. Sometimes, it was hard to be around young men. It reminded him of the war -- so many of the men who had died were no older than his students. He tried not to dwell on it.

[montgomerywilliam-blog]

sorry I’ve been sucking on replies today!! classes were especially stressful today, though I should get a free moment before work tomorrow to knock out my replies :)

[mollyxblake]

Mallory watched him as he looked around the house, knowing he was remembering, just as she was. 

Alice squirmed in her mother’s grasp,  pointing at the ground. When Mallory failed to take notice, she tugged at her sleeve, pouting. “Mummy..” She said insistently, until Mallory set her down. Staring up at the stranger with wide eyes, she toddled to hide behind her mother’s skirt, peeking out at him.

[montgomerywilliam-blog]

Mallory cleared her throat. “I don’t look well.” She said simply. She knew she didn’t, and she didn’t want to be lied to. The women who visited her some days, clucking and cooing at Alice, bringing food and treating Mallory like an invalid, lied enough about it already.

She bit her lip, watching the man. It was clear he wanted to do something, though as to why, she wasn’t sure. Searching around the room for something, her eyes landed on a hole in the ceiling. “There’s a hole in the ceiling. Right over there. It leaks on rainy days, sometimes.” She offered.

William shook off the memories as well as he could. He watched Alice peek out from behind Mallory. She seemed like a sweet girl, and already she reminded William of Oliver. How hard it must be for Mallory, a constant reminder of who she lost. Though, what in this house wasn’t a reminder of Oliver? 

He chuckled at her correction. It might have been rude, but the whole situation was absurd. He appreciated her ability to speak with candor. Truthfully, no one looked well in Port Clearwater. “I’m sorry. This is all so strange. You know.”

William felt Mallory’s gaze on him, but he couldn’t bear to turn around and meet her eyes. He moved closer to the hole she mentioned, inspecting it. He was tall enough that he could almost reach it without help. “I can get something to fill this with and fix it tonight.” 

He turned, tucking in the edges of his shirt that had come undone with his movement. “There has to be something else you need.” He didn’t just want to help Mallory -- it seemed as though a part of him needed to help her. He’d been there when Oliver died. Sure, there was nothing he could have done, but he felt as if he owed it to Oliver to look after his family. 

[alittlecurse-deactivated2016110]

I look young But inside I am old And filled with the deaths Of other people.

(via hailthequeens)

[montgomerywilliam-blog]

It was noon on a Sunday, yet William sat in the dark bar, ordering his third whiskey. It was the war, he would say to justify his drinking. Really, it was everything. This town, his house, the people he’d forgotten about and the people he wished he could forget. War wasn’t the hard part -- returning from war was. 

He leaned against the bar, swirling the liquid around the glass. With a thud, he set the glass down. He figured he should pace himself, lest someone stumble upon him in the bar. The only thing worse than being found drinking on a Sunday afternoon is being found drunk on a Sunday afternoon. As he lit his cigarette, William chuckled to himself. He felt as if he was in a movie -- a badly written, overdramatic story of a war veteran who turns into an alcoholic.

His mind flashed to the end of the story, when the man inevitably finds love and turns from drinking to ease the pain. How fitting, he thought, taking a drag of the cigarette. Smoking had become a habit for him during the war, and though he knew it was repulsive, he refused to stop, kind of like drinking. 

Movement out of the corner of his eye roused William’s attention. He turned his head and pulled the cigarette out from between his teeth. “Afternoon,” he greeted the other. He finished his glass, not caring so much about public opinion anymore. “Beautiful day in Port Clearwater,” he tacked on to the end of his greeting, though he wasn’t sure why. Some part of him still longed for human interaction, he supposed. 

[franfran-odonovan-blog]

She recognized the voice before the face. After all, she’d walked past his classroom during lectures dozen of times. Then there were the parties at Camilla’s house where his voice was just as booming as if the party was part of a lecture series. Fran never minded it. Maybe she should now that the engagement was off. She was supposed to hate him, no? Camilla was one of her dearest friends while he was little more than an acquaintance. She couldn’t even call him a co-worker. They worked so separately, it was like saying two shops across from one another were company partners. 

Fran wasn’t sure which was a better topic, work or Camilla. She opted for the cheap option. “Well…” she started before grabbing her hat back. “We can predict it will snow in winter and rain in the spring.” She clutched her hat to her chest.  “It is almost autumn, but strong wind like this makes me think of winter.” She noticed a pile of papers beside him. Her brows furrowed in confusion. “Though that doesn’t seem to be a problem for you.” Professors were the odd type, in her experience at least. 

A small flock of seagulls passed overhead, each taking their turn shrieking. Fran bit her lip, still looking at the pile of papers. It was nothing against him. She had never been flirty type or the charismatic one. A boy in school once compared her to a baby deer after he asked her to dance. It wasn’t a terrible thing to be compared to as a young girl but Fran was a woman now and her shy charm was wearing off. It had only gotten worse after Simon– at least she thought so. 

[montgomerywilliam-blog]

It took a moment, but William recognized the woman. She was a good friend of Camilla’s, and if he wasn’t confused, she also worked as a nurse at SMC. Regretfully, he couldn’t seem to match her to a name. He racked his brain, thinking back to the countless times they’d interacted at Camilla’s events, but he only ever remembered him talking. Now he couldn't even remember what sorts of things he talked about -- politics? Not hardly. Philosophy? Maybe. Anything to make him seem intelligent, probably.

He cleared his throat at her analysis of the weather. He needed to stop being so melodramatic, or people would start whispering about him. What changed him? they would wonder, though the answer was obvious. “Right. Well, I just meant, even with all of our fancy technology, man is no more in control of nature than we were one hundred years ago.” He noted the curious look she tossed in his direction -- was she looking at his papers? He tucked his grading pen into his pocket.

“It helps me to have clear air when I work,” he explained, though he was partly lying. He really just hated being alone in that house. He had so many memories of living there with his grandparents, mother and sister -- and now that all of them had gone or moved out, the manor was much too large for just one person. Maybe he should get a pet -- no, that was a bad idea. He noticed her still looking at the papers. Why wouldn't she meet his eyes? Did she feel just as uncomfortable as he? Surely she knew that Camilla had been the one to break off the engagement. “They’re from my Ancient Civ class -- analysis of primary texts and such.” 

[mollyxblake]

Mallory smoothed her hair back, tucking a loose strand behind her ear as she balanced Alice on one hip. She was barely a baby at this point- she was getting bigger and bigger every day.

At the familiar voice, her stomach twisted. It was familiar- there was no mistaking William Montgomery. But it brought back memories. 

Memories of Oliver sitting in the kitchen with this man, an arm wrapped casually around Mallory’s waist as they talked. William and Oliver’s laughter filling the room. 

This house hadn’t been quiet back then. It had been warm, comfortably noisy. The house wasn’t the same- it was a museum nowadays, a museum of what once had been.

Adjusting Alice’s position on her hip, she turned to face him. “Hello, William.” She said softly, so much unsaid behind the words. “We’re fine. But-but thank you for asking.”

[montgomerywilliam-blog]

William peered around the small house -- it was all too familiar to him. With each piece of furniture came a new slew of memories. He recalled helping Oliver build the kitchen table. The sofa brought back memories of long talks and nights spent drinking and laughing.

All of that was gone now. William shifted his eyes to Mallory. Her eyes looked tired and she looked thin, thinner than usual. “Alice, right?” he asked, giving a small smile to the young girl. “How is--” he stopped himself. He needn’t ask. “You look well.”

“You’re sure?” he questioned, taking a quick look around the kitchen. Milk was always helpful, right? Flour? What do women even use to cook? “Well, what about around the house? Is anything broken?” William pushed. There had to be something -- anything -- he could do. 

[ireneayre-deactivated20180514]

Autumn brought the start of the colder months, but in Irene’s case, it also brought a handful of important deadlines. She’d spent the summer locked away in her house on the hill. In the last six weeks, it was a miracle if she even managed to see the sun, instead opting to shut herself away in the sanctuary of her home with just her typewriter for company. Her latest work– Whitetower, it was to be called– was almost ready to print, save for the last few chapters, which she clutched tightly to her chest as she made her way down towards the town centre. The publisher wouldn’t have arrived at the cafe yet. She had plenty of time for a leisurely walk into town, taking the time to breathe in the fresh, crisp air she had been neglecting for so long.

As she turned the corner at the bottom of her street, a particularly strong gust of wind hit her side-on. Loose pages flew from her hands and through the air, taunting her as the ending of her novel sailed off down the road. Irene cursed. “That damned sea air!” She exclaimed, chasing after the manuscript that had left a rather annoying paper trail for her to follow. It was just her luck. Important days never went how she intended them to.

She had managed to recover about a third of the last chapter when she heard footsteps coming the other way. Wonderful. Now she had the joy of having an audience watch her run around with her bottom in the air in an attempt to rescue her work. Her eyes snapped up to the onlooker, giving them a grimace as she shuffled the pages in her hands.

[montgomerywilliam-blog]

William was, surprisingly, running early. Usually he was on time, rarely he was late, but he was never early. He’d gotten used to a quite strict schedule, but he awoke at 4:30 a.m. this morning for no particular reason.  Once he was awake, he was at attention. This was a good trait he’d inherited from his time in the army. 

With a whole extra hour in his schedule, William allowed himself the luxury of relaxing with a book. He’d been meaning to finish Steinbeck’s The Red Pony for a few months now, but work had taken up entirely too much of his time. He was notably distracted as he walked to work -- he had but a chapter left before the close of the book -- and didn’t notice the papers flying around him until he heard a crunch. 

Looking down, William realized that he’d stepped on a loose paper. He picked it up and examined it. The page number in the corner made him guess that it was part of a book. He gathered as many pages as he could before locating the woman he presumed had lost them. “Ma’am, your pages,” he offered, holding out his hand to her. He straightened his tweed jacket and smiled apologetically. “Pardon me, I stepped on page one hundred thirty-two. Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked. 

[franfran-odonovan-blog]

The pier was never quiet. There was always the screeching of seagulls or the hoarse voice of fisherman. When school got out children would race each other up and down the dock, laughing and cheering. Well, when Fran was a child that is what she used to do when school got out. And when it was warm. As nice as the pier was in the winter it was Clearwater’s own iceberg. Floating about the water and freezing off noses and toes. At least that’s how Fran remembered it. Last winter she spent most of her time at work or at the Moores’ with Camilla. She only used her home as a place to sleep and occasionally eat. It was much too quiet there.

Walking along the banister and looking at the waves a gust of wind hit. The wind whipped at Fran’s skirt and batted at her straw hat. She decided to spare the town of seeing her knickers, pushing down her skirt with on hand in the front and the other reached back behind her. The wind took her hat onto the pier. At least it didn’t blow it straight into the ocean. But now Fran had to chase the thing down. It felt like trying to catch a cat more than fetching her old hat. 

The wind calmed and her hat rested at a pair of feet sitting on the pier. “My apologies!” She called still running up the pier. Slowing to a walk she caught her breath. “I didn’t know the wind could whip up like that this time of year.” 

[montgomerywilliam-blog]

Back when he was in primary school, William used to escape to the pier to do his reading, a habit that was hard to break. He’d been teaching for a little over a month now, and he’d already formed a routine of coming to the pier to grade papers. He’d expected it to feel familiar -- the sea salt spray in his face and the lazy wind. Instead, the pier evoked within him feelings of sadness and safety. He knew he was home, factually, but he wondered whether he would ever really feel at home again. 

Everything just felt strange now. Normal things, like catching the train to work or mowing the lawn, were infused with a sort of sadness. It was somewhat of a relief to fall back into his old routines. It reminded him of who he was and what life was like before. His eyes re-focused and he realized he’d been staring at the same line for the past couple of minutes. He lifted his pen once again and circled a comma splice. 

His work was interrupted, however, when a straw hat landed at his feet. Impulsively, he grabbed it before looking up to see the woman to whom it belonged. “No apology needed,” he said, pushing his things aside to hand her the hat. He stood, “one would imagine. Weather is much less predictable than we will it to be.”

[dearicarxs]

Nathan wasn’t the type of person that often drove attention towards himself, while he wasn’t shy, he was reserved. Ever since the war ended he had found a refuge in Port Clearwater, the peace and quite was a stark difference to the constant sounds of guns, screaming, and explosives he had gotten so used to over the previous five years. But some days he felt like there was more he should be doing, there were weeks that he didn’t even operate on someone because no one needed it; while before he had been performing countless surgeries every day. This made him restless and gave him far too much time to reflect on his life. 

To keep himself busy Nathan found himself volunteering for more hours at the hospital and working in other departments, often picking up shifts for other doctors who couldn’t make it in. Which is how he found himself covering the appointments for one of his co-workers.  Glancing over the patient’s chart in his hands he opened the door to the small examination room, and offered them a smile. “Hello, I’m Doctor Monro. I’m afraid Doctor Thatchner is out today, but I will be covering for him.” He informed taking a seat in his chair, and offering the other a curt smile. “So what brings you in today?" 

[montgomerywilliam-blog]

For weeks, William’s sister had been pestering him about having a check up. It had come up randomly, he honestly didn’t remember the conversation, but ever since she’d learned he hadn’t seen a doctor since he was decommissioned from the army, William hadn’t heard the end of it. So, here he was to shut her up. In all of his years, he’d learned that most of the time it was better to comply with women rather than argue.

William looked up from his hands as the doctor walked in -- he was younger than William expected. The man apologized for the regular doctor being out, but it made no difference to William. He didn’t know the other doctor and he didn’t know this man. “That’s alright,” he stated, with a polite nod. He always hated things like this because of the forced small talk. “I’m just here to get my check up out of the way,” William explained. “If I could get a copy of all of the paperwork afterward, that would be great.”