{5 have found the Private}
It was unusual, adjusting to civilian life. Coming back from the army, from Afghanistan, from torture. He felt unusual, due to the fact that he hadn't been in London since he was eighteen. He was 27, now, and still trying to adjust to England's cold weather, after living in Australia for the years he'd been free.
At that moment, James was leaving a small coffee shop, both of his hands wrapped around the cup, his collar tugged up against the wind. A soft Beethoven song was coming from between his lips, his blue eyes scanning the area. Although James wasn't nearly as smart as his brothers, he could still notice certain things, such as the man who was going through a divorce with his wife - no, husband. And the woman who's sister just had a child that had been in all of the family news, annoying the woman to no ends.
Sighing, and wanting to get out of the large crowd, James looked down at his shoes and turned a corner, wanting to get to a library to find a permanent flat. He was getting tired of paying rent every month, so he wanted to have a place to himself. The Beethoven song could still be heard as he walked, eyes still on his shoes, hands gripping his coffee.
