(no subject)

[mumbling-truth.livejournal.com]

There was a poet in the bar, writing as usual. But he seemed a bit troubled. Sensitive observer that he was, he couldn't help picking up on the tension in the place. And other matters had him concerned. Sometimes, he fiddled with his promise ring worriedly. Time had been very odd for him late, and his talks with his fiancee seemed so distant these days.

Todd was getting concerned, and tried to focus on his writing. Every so often, he asked one of the waitrats for some more tea, or a little food.