Oct. 30th, 2012

France

Oct. 30th, 2012 02:09 am
alittlesweptup: (mmmhmmm)
[personal profile] alittlesweptup
The intention behind taking a train had been a good one. Theoretically, it could have been less cramped than a plane - certainly less so than the tiny puddle jumper they'd taken back from Syria when his leg had been in a massive cast and he'd been choking down enough pain killers to knock out an elephant. A shame then that the reality of travel by train isn't nearly so roomy as the idea of it; not even an hour out of London and Charlie can feel his leg starting to cramp up in the narrow space between his seat and the row in front of them.

His bag is in the overhead storage. He has spent the last twenty minutes mentally going through the steps to get to his duffel, or more specifically in the end pocket where he packed a bottle of prescription percocet. It goes like this: he will get his cane under him, grab hold of the seat in front of him and lever himself to his feet (apologizing profusely to the elderly woman sitting in front of him), then brace himself off both the cane and a hand hold on the edge of the overhead-- It's a slowly tipping scale between the pain in his leg and the effort it would take to get his medication, one that right now doesn't seem worth the effort. Not yet.

And sure he could lean over, touch Chloe's arm and ask her to just pull down the bag for him. It would take her half a minute to haul the damn thing down. But that isn't how he wants to start this trip, so to hell with it.

Profile

soulforge: (Default)
THE FORGE OF SOULS; a musebox

February 2013

S M T W T F S
      1 2
3456789
10111213141516
17181920212223
2425262728  

Most Popular Tags

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Oct. 1st, 2025 12:53 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios