milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Todd finished up his gardening shift earlier, and got cleaned up and dressed. He was hoping to run into Neil in the room or in the bar to see about plans. But he couldn't find him anywhere. He debated on getting something to eat, but felt too troubled. Something seemed wrong somehow.

Perhaps a stroll out back would help.

So there's a poet with a jacket on against the chilled night air, watching the moon and stars over ahead as he walked near the woods.

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He blinked at that, "You do? Really?"

Helen nods vigorously. "I do." She smiles. "The world will always need Doctors, Lawyers, Business types. But the world would not be complete without art. And poetry is an art. A necessary one."

Todd blinked at that, "Have you met Mr. Keating as well? My English teacher once told us that, too."

"I have not met Mr. Keating, but I do intend to do so." She grins. "You don't need to be shy about writing."

Todd shrugged, "I guess not, just worried people won't like it, or think it's stupid."

"Poetry is feelings, and no one has truly stupid feelings." She smiles, comfortingly. "Those who matter will like it."

Todd gave a small smile at that, "Thank you."

"Really, Todd. It was no problem. And I mean every word of it. I have every faith in you, as a person, as a writer." She beams at him. "You should sleep, Todd, and I should take Melina in for the night. I'll see you tomorrow?"

Todd nodded, "Well, you know where to find me during the day. Good night, Helen."

He added, "I will in a bit, but I think I want to walk a little longer." He then walked away, closer to the woods.

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