Owen Corley (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cypher_can_fly) wrote2019-06-24 03:09 pm
cypher_can_fly) wrote2019-06-24 03:09 pm
Entry tags:
Room 201, Monday Morning
Owen woke up from what... felt... like a fever dream.
He was still sitting on the ground.
Random observations were still ticking away in the back of head, but they weren't so... all-consuming now.
His wrists hurt. As did his legs.
"... I'm going to be sick," he whispered.
At least there was no one here. He'd be mortified if anyone watched him puke his guts out in this bucket.
[[ door closed, post open ]]
He was still sitting on the ground.
Random observations were still ticking away in the back of head, but they weren't so... all-consuming now.
His wrists hurt. As did his legs.
"... I'm going to be sick," he whispered.
At least there was no one here. He'd be mortified if anyone watched him puke his guts out in this bucket.
[[ door closed, post open ]]