FUCK. will’s luck with catching the metro train is about as good as the rest of his life, which is to say, not very good at all. he’s tried the damn app and the schedules printed into little neat pamphlets and all that shit, but no; public transport just really fucking hates him and apparently today is to be no different. his sneakers meet the station’s grimy tile floor just in time to see the train whooshes away into the darkness. “ fuck. ” it’s said out-loud this time, spat out to lie with the dirt that stains the grout. luckily, there’s no one around to send him dirty looks. he does send a dirty glare down at his leg, however, as if by sheer frustration he can punish it for slowing him down AND make it stop throbbing in this godforsaken damp weather. unsurprisingly, his leg doesn’t listen. if anything, it decides to ache a little more. go figure.
@graymonroe
