(no subject)
Sometimes, Freddy wondered how it was possible that something as caffeinated as coffee was capable of calming someone. It was probably just the warmth of it, but ever since Larry had come to the island, he'd been drinking more and more. Which was actually saying quite a bit considering his penchance for the steaming dark liquid even before the con had washed up on the island's shores. Few cups a day, turned into the kitchen nearly becoming his natual habitat. There was no better remedy for stress. Just hunching over the table, letting his face hang over the steaming mug and basking in the rising heat as the rich smell lulled his nerves and brought the nervous anxiety that buzzed in his limbs and mind down to a dull roar.
It was weird. All the times where he'd let his mind wander, where he even let the possibility of Larry's arrival be alive in his mind, he'd always drawn so many different ppictures. So many ways it could, some of them which had seemed to possible, other's a selfish fool's fantasy of escaping any troubling emotional and mental issues. But even when faced with the truth, the way it was progressing, the way his little life on the island had actually been shaken from its foundation, it was so hard for him to really tell himself that the man was here. He didn't know if it was a dream or a nightmare, or maybe just the result of a night spet with a little too much moonshine, but every mornign when he woke up, he was tempted to ask himself if it was just a dream. And everytime he heard Anita whispering into his ear with morning breath and a mumble of sleep in her voice as she asked "You gonna be okay?" he knew that it wasn't. It was real. It was there. Larry was there.
And he was going to have to keep living with that fact.