(Untitled)

[stsmecker]

Hangover's starting to dissipate ... I think I'll order a wrap from room service and just stay in with the books I picked up at Columbia after the meeting ... T.S Eliot sounds really good, right now... Maybe "J. Alfred Prufrock":

And would it have been worth it, after all

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[danceofdragons]

Charlie petted Mistoffelee's feathers then gave him the letter, just a sheet of parchment folded over, and the tawny took it in his beak. He knew Charlie was upset so there was no protests. Animals can tell.

The owl flew through Smecker's open hotel window some time later, the letter clutched in his beak, eyeing his disdainfully. Owl with 'tude. The note was dropped on the bed and it fluttered open to reveal one short sentence ...

I'm sorry. Forgive me. Charlie xx

[stsmecker]

Looking up from his book of poetry at the whir of feathers, Smecker caught the owl's haughty look, and wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered, setting the book down. "Go 'head and hate me, see'f I care

[danceofdragons]

Charlie stared at the owl. "He wrote back?" but Mistoffelees just pecked his finger twice. "All right!" He took the package from the table and opened it slowly. Then stared at it for a very long time. Smeck always knew what to do to make things better.

The note made him smile. Slowly. He scribbled a note back and ignored the look the owl gve him as he scooted out of the window with a hoot that sounded suspiciously like, 'Fuck you.'

Smeck.
No, it wasn't all your fault. We both screwed up but I never meant to hurt you and whether you'll admit it or not, I did hurt you. I can read you like a book.
Sort of like this book. I love it. Thank you babe, you didn't need to.
Cook?! Between the both of us we'll only argue over the menu's again. Remember last time? I thought you were going to bite me for a while.
I am sorry. Nothing to make up for.
Love, Charlie xx

[stsmecker]

Having just finished polishing off the first section of Eliot's 'Waste Land', Smecker blinks as Mistoffelees drops the second note unceremoniously on his head and settles on his desk chair once more.

"Already?" He picks the paper off his head. "Do I get more words, this time, maybe?" Unfolding the note, he gives a chuckle at the menu comment, then gets to his feet and looks through his closet for a clean jacket - it's about time for a trip to the laundromat. Tucking in his shirt, he slides on the jacket, then brushes his hair and grabs his car keys before directing a smirk at the owl.

"Race you."