Random drabble
That I wrote in honor of R&I starting up again.
Maura likes consistency. The comfort of familiarity, of things that are simply always there. The hum of the refrigerator; the sputter of cars backfiring in the streets; Jane cursing at the Red Sox from the spot she has claimed on Maura's couch and accidentally knocking over her beer on Maura's carpet in the process.
"I come bringing gifts."
"New carpet would be nice."
"Maura. That was months ago. You can't even see it now."
Jane huffs, pushes Maura aside, and sets the candles up on the table that Maura put over the barely visible (but visible) stain.
Hurricanes in Boston are rare. So is the real silence, and the blackness outside Maura's window.
But, Maura thinks as she huddles under a blanket while Jane gleefully suggests they should tell each other ghost stories, sometimes that doesn't seem so bad.
Thankfully, a guy came and fixed it today. Yay light.
Maura likes consistency. The comfort of familiarity, of things that are simply always there. The hum of the refrigerator; the sputter of cars backfiring in the streets; Jane cursing at the Red Sox from the spot she has claimed on Maura's couch and accidentally knocking over her beer on Maura's carpet in the process.
"I come bringing gifts."
"New carpet would be nice."
"Maura. That was months ago. You can't even see it now."
Jane huffs, pushes Maura aside, and sets the candles up on the table that Maura put over the barely visible (but visible) stain.
Hurricanes in Boston are rare. So is the real silence, and the blackness outside Maura's window.
But, Maura thinks as she huddles under a blanket while Jane gleefully suggests they should tell each other ghost stories, sometimes that doesn't seem so bad.
Thankfully, a guy came and fixed it today. Yay light.