thewordofweb: (hint of grin)
I nearly didn't make it down to the boat today. I'd gotten up, done my chores around the house and said my goodbyes to Joe and Sophie, but then I'd gotten caught gaping at my reflection and what was undoubtedly some plan to foil my mood in the form of a gray hair. At thirty-two, I really shouldn't be spouting hair that shade, and yet, there it is.

I'd already been having issues. After all, boyfriend who's forty, relationship hitting ten years, the same routine over and over again on the Island. What are you even supposed to do? How are you supposed to live your life with any kind of...well, anything. Call it a midlife crisis, but I was having the most uncomfortable time when it came to this. Honestly, I just want to strike out, do something different, be somewhere else.

The only else I have though, is the boat. I drop my things down at the base of the dock to start loading it up, trying not to catch my reflection in surfaces, lest I see something new, like a wrinkle.
thewordofweb: (this constant change: by ?)
There are very few things that I like about being a woman. My back aches, Joe calls me all manner of nicknames, and I feel awkward when I catch Skinny and Grant eyeing my rack. Still, the one thing I do like is the leverage I know have over the boys, and specifically, over my one. I'm lucky enough to know a very fine woman and after a year's time, we've traded back and forth on favors that I've lost count of where we stand.

Still, she's the expert. Joe's continued attendance at the Catscratch proves it. I hurry and hustle, ceasing my jog when it starts to hurt and slow down to approach Helen at the club. "Helen?" I greet with a demure smile. "Hi. Got an hour?"


thewordofweb: (Default)

May 2014

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