95.5 - when autumn leaves start to fall

[hard-talker.livejournal.com]

[for once, there's no broadcast. this Monday evening finds Mark stretched out in a pile of leaves, with a few pillows he's wished up to give it some more substance and squish. his boombox is nearby, but he's not blasting it, per se - anyone who comes within six feet or so will be able to hear what he's listening to.

he's got a book in his hands, and his journal propped open in the leaves nearby, a flashlight tucked in the pocket of his shirt to read by, now that the sun's gone down, and a blanket over his shoulders]

.... Okay, so ... how've I gone from ten minutes to a building blowing up, to ... group therapy? Jesus, this book is whacked. ... [he snickers to himself and keeps on reading]

I love it already. ... [and then he tosses a remark toward the journal]

How's everyone else killin' time during good ole Leafstock?

Comments

[eat-me-beat-me.livejournal.com]

Hey, hey, you never know. Besides, people are stupid.

[She laughs, craning her head up to look at him]

[hard-talker.livejournal.com]

Yeah, that's true. [he shifts a little so she won't get a crick in her neck]

S'funny, everyone else is complaining, but I kinda like this. We didn't even get leaves like this in New York, everyone used to haul their asses onto buses to Vermont and New Hampshire and shit to see this.

[eat-me-beat-me.livejournal.com]

[She smiles up at him]

Yeah, it's kinda nice. Don't get leaves like this in Arizona, either. Not much variety out in the desert.

[hard-talker.livejournal.com]

Yeah, no shit. "Hey, look, there's some more sand! Oh wait, no, THAT'S DIRT."

[eat-me-beat-me.livejournal.com]

[Laughing, she reaches up and playfully swats him.]

Hey! I've lived there my whole life, remember, Mr. New York?

[hard-talker.livejournal.com]

I know! It's called "fucking with you", remember? [he swats back and grins]

[eat-me-beat-me.livejournal.com]

Yah-huh. This coming from the only guy I know with grass in his back yard.

[hard-talker.livejournal.com]

Psh, not my fault my mother thinks she's Donna Reed.

[eat-me-beat-me.livejournal.com]

[She scoffs] With their powers combined, our mothers can be Captaaaaiiiin Housework!