RP: Last Call
Date: December 27, 1999.
Characters: Rosie, anyone?
Location: Three Broomsticks
Status: Public
Summary: Rosie ponders a year coming to a close, the millennial making her nostalgic
Completion: Incomplete?
Rosie did a turn of the room, picking up empty glasses and plates, greeting people as she went. The fire roared merrily in the fireplace, the entire room nice and warm compared to the chill outside. She went to the kitchen, set the dishes down to be washed, and stepped into her office for a moment, needing a moment to sit and clear her mind. The past few months had flown, from the one year anniversary on, and she was only just now starting to feel like things were slipping past her. Friendships that had kept her sane in the years since Benjy's death had waned, and her work had become solace, smile and drinks for the patrons, and the energy that it took to do so five nights of the week had her falling into bed and sleeping soundly, not missing the feel of an occasional warm body.
Not that their hadn't been warm bodies. She sighed again as she thought of some of the young men she'd teased and flirted, and shagged, how she'd not meant to hurt them, but their fragility shattered against her emotions, set like granite to weather the times they'd been subject to. She wondered now if maybe she hadn't chosen what was right, but what was easiest, giving of her body but never her heart.
Ah, well. She was an old cat, not inclined to change her spots. But maybe if she squinted hard enough, she could blur them a bit. Smiling a bit whimsically at the thought, she got up, stretched, hearing the vertebrae pop in her back, and went back out to serve. It was her life, after all.
Characters: Rosie, anyone?
Location: Three Broomsticks
Status: Public
Summary: Rosie ponders a year coming to a close, the millennial making her nostalgic
Completion: Incomplete?
Rosie did a turn of the room, picking up empty glasses and plates, greeting people as she went. The fire roared merrily in the fireplace, the entire room nice and warm compared to the chill outside. She went to the kitchen, set the dishes down to be washed, and stepped into her office for a moment, needing a moment to sit and clear her mind. The past few months had flown, from the one year anniversary on, and she was only just now starting to feel like things were slipping past her. Friendships that had kept her sane in the years since Benjy's death had waned, and her work had become solace, smile and drinks for the patrons, and the energy that it took to do so five nights of the week had her falling into bed and sleeping soundly, not missing the feel of an occasional warm body.
Not that their hadn't been warm bodies. She sighed again as she thought of some of the young men she'd teased and flirted, and shagged, how she'd not meant to hurt them, but their fragility shattered against her emotions, set like granite to weather the times they'd been subject to. She wondered now if maybe she hadn't chosen what was right, but what was easiest, giving of her body but never her heart.
Ah, well. She was an old cat, not inclined to change her spots. But maybe if she squinted hard enough, she could blur them a bit. Smiling a bit whimsically at the thought, she got up, stretched, hearing the vertebrae pop in her back, and went back out to serve. It was her life, after all.