Steve could think a handful of worse things that being detailed today. Not that he really had the space or time for recall -- not that recall really cared whether you did, you signed saying you'd go when they called, no matter what, if the need of the country was so great -- but with everything else, it wouldn't have fit well going down either.
But there is something wistful about the though of it. Almost frustrating in the ease of the thought.
Recall. Reserves. Drill. Duty. Set lines in solid concrete, saying what needing doing in each hour on each day.
He popped the top up and pushed the box in the mostly empty trash can, that no one had really been here often enough to be filling in the last week. He'd been so in and out, even with Danny around on most of the evenings. The house itself hardly lived in, dropped in and out from, for nearly two months. Or was it decades. Did the two years really change anything.
Did it count to count the years that his father had been here, wandering it alone to? Had Doris ever counted those?
But he doesn't quite want those thoughts in there. Questions with no answer, from either ghosts or people lost in the wind, faded back into the black. He shoved at it, without so much as a twitch in his face, and walked back toward the door to the dinning room. Leaning on the side of it, looking at Cath, pristine and right for sunshine and relaxing, for being on break for a few days, having a breath of fresh air, off the clock.
Everything but something he felt anywhere inside himself now. He felt tired in a way that had nothing to do with having gotten enough sleep, and just needed shoving into something else. Something that might drag it thinner and thinner, until it was diluted out entirely. Which made an interesting thought in itself pop into his head.
"Have you been out to Koko Head yet?" It's not exactly sensitive, even if he hasn't been out there since Lori, before Asia, when that had seemed bigger. Which it was; big. But that was definitely a smaller, lesser one than the one already beating its own space in his head, even if it still mattered. Plus, it might fit well enough to several other things.
no subject
But there is something wistful about the though of it. Almost frustrating in the ease of the thought.
Recall. Reserves. Drill. Duty. Set lines in solid concrete, saying what needing doing in each hour on each day.
He popped the top up and pushed the box in the mostly empty trash can, that no one had really been here often enough to be filling in the last week. He'd been so in and out, even with Danny around on most of the evenings. The house itself hardly lived in, dropped in and out from, for nearly two months. Or was it decades. Did the two years really change anything.
Did it count to count the years that his father had been here, wandering it alone to? Had Doris ever counted those?
But he doesn't quite want those thoughts in there. Questions with no answer, from either ghosts or people lost in the wind, faded back into the black. He shoved at it, without so much as a twitch in his face, and walked back toward the door to the dinning room. Leaning on the side of it, looking at Cath, pristine and right for sunshine and relaxing, for being on break for a few days, having a breath of fresh air, off the clock.
Everything but something he felt anywhere inside himself now. He felt tired in a way that had nothing to do with having gotten enough sleep, and just needed shoving into something else. Something that might drag it thinner and thinner, until it was diluted out entirely. Which made an interesting thought in itself pop into his head.
"Have you been out to Koko Head yet?" It's not exactly sensitive, even if he hasn't been out there since Lori, before Asia, when that had seemed bigger. Which it was; big. But that was definitely a smaller, lesser one than the one already beating its own space in his head, even if it still mattered. Plus, it might fit well enough to several other things.