08-06-2013, 03:47 PM
Home. After a long day. Between Rune’s new commission and Thalia’s outstanding work and projects, the time had inexplicably gushed through her fingers like sand, and there was still so much to do; she’d had to prise herself away from her studio when the shadows had finally deepened enough for her to take heed. After catching herself squinting between blue and turquoise, it’d occurred to her to check her Wallet for the time. Then double check in disbelief. Thal generally didn’t like taking the metro late at night, though sometimes it couldn’t be helped. There were only a few stops between Arbatskaya and Filevsky Park anyway. Tonight the carriage had almost been empty.
Her apartment was all grey shadows within. Trinkets and books lined shelves on most of the free walls, hugging the darkness to their cores, and a bit of light from the window caressed the edges of furniture. Thalia dumped her keys in a bowl on a sideboard, yanked the satchel over her head and let that fall too, then pulled off her boots one at a time on her way to the sofa. Where she crashed, unceremoniously. Paint still flecked her fingernails - she could feel it - and probably curled in the ends of her hair too. I’ll shower tomorrow. A yawn cracked her jaw. Though I should probably call Aylin. Which she had absolutely every intention of doing, the moment she could regroup the energy to decipher which shadow hid the bag that contained her Wallet. And the further bit of effort it would take to get up and actually retrieve it.
She blinked for a long time at the offending shadow, until the blinks became slower and the darkness lulled her. She fell asleep.
[Continued at "Glimmers of a Dream"]
Her apartment was all grey shadows within. Trinkets and books lined shelves on most of the free walls, hugging the darkness to their cores, and a bit of light from the window caressed the edges of furniture. Thalia dumped her keys in a bowl on a sideboard, yanked the satchel over her head and let that fall too, then pulled off her boots one at a time on her way to the sofa. Where she crashed, unceremoniously. Paint still flecked her fingernails - she could feel it - and probably curled in the ends of her hair too. I’ll shower tomorrow. A yawn cracked her jaw. Though I should probably call Aylin. Which she had absolutely every intention of doing, the moment she could regroup the energy to decipher which shadow hid the bag that contained her Wallet. And the further bit of effort it would take to get up and actually retrieve it.
She blinked for a long time at the offending shadow, until the blinks became slower and the darkness lulled her. She fell asleep.
[Continued at "Glimmers of a Dream"]