08-07-2018, 12:35 AM
(This post was last modified: 08-07-2018, 12:36 AM by Jensen James.)
“My ankle has hurt for years,” a woman said as she lifted the hem of her dress, and modelled her designer stilettos. Apparently the ankle wasn’t so painful as to impede her love for haute couture.
“Allergies-“ When he explained that the llama hair couch in his spare living room made him sneeze, Jensen suggested avoiding llama-hair.
"Tooth ache-" The tooth that ached was from a diamond-studded cap over a middle tooth. Jensen didn’t even know that kind of procedure was possible.
“My shoulder has ached for three days.” Jensen regarded this particular complaint with more seriousness than the others.
“What happened?” He inquired, studying the arm.
The man explained how it rebounded when he punched a wall.
Jensen sighed.
Such was his state when the young lady found him. Recognition flashed her eyes. A fan, although he clearly did not evade the attention as he once had, he swallowed nervously none the less. Her plea caught him off-guard, as did her accent. The lilt of the northern US clipped her vowels short.
He nodded, ready to depart in her company, when a whisper from afar breathed into his ear. The ropes of their gifted powers mined a hole through the air, leading a trail back to its creator.
Jensen forced himself to remember to blink, but the tightness in his chest gripped uncomfortable. He could do nothing but nod, peel the paws from his arms, and join him.
The man wore the robes of those channeler soldiers yet, despite that, he trusted the earnestness of this soldier’s petition. “I’ll go with you. Who is it?”
“Allergies-“ When he explained that the llama hair couch in his spare living room made him sneeze, Jensen suggested avoiding llama-hair.
"Tooth ache-" The tooth that ached was from a diamond-studded cap over a middle tooth. Jensen didn’t even know that kind of procedure was possible.
“My shoulder has ached for three days.” Jensen regarded this particular complaint with more seriousness than the others.
“What happened?” He inquired, studying the arm.
The man explained how it rebounded when he punched a wall.
Jensen sighed.
Such was his state when the young lady found him. Recognition flashed her eyes. A fan, although he clearly did not evade the attention as he once had, he swallowed nervously none the less. Her plea caught him off-guard, as did her accent. The lilt of the northern US clipped her vowels short.
He nodded, ready to depart in her company, when a whisper from afar breathed into his ear. The ropes of their gifted powers mined a hole through the air, leading a trail back to its creator.
Jensen forced himself to remember to blink, but the tightness in his chest gripped uncomfortable. He could do nothing but nod, peel the paws from his arms, and join him.
The man wore the robes of those channeler soldiers yet, despite that, he trusted the earnestness of this soldier’s petition. “I’ll go with you. Who is it?”