The spray of the ocean was nice. It wasn't too late in the day to be hot and the heady smell of salt water let him close his eyes and imagine that he was on a beach he actually liked. So much shit had gone on in the past few days that he was almost sad that it was too early for a drink. His head pounded anyway, stomach churning, angry in its emptiness but all that matched the bruises on his face, his knuckles. Next to him, a carefully curated pile of rocks, perfect for skipping on the water. Or breaking out windows if that was your thing.
He needed something calm and zenful. This was it.
He stopped by the Food Stall on the way home, snatching up a basket of berries and another few plums. God what he wouldn't give for a steady flow of this stuff. Maybe he would start that garden. In the greenhouse. It wasn't a bad idea. If they could be cultivated, then maybe they wouldn't have to rely on this cart that might vanish at any moment.
Hours later and one stop by 1307 for a few fresh bottles of moonshine, Raylan could be found on the porch of a house deep south on Jackson Boulevard. Great view of the graveyard, he thought as he kicked his feet up. Three and a half stars.
Day 67 - OTA
He needed something calm and zenful. This was it.
He stopped by the Food Stall on the way home, snatching up a basket of berries and another few plums. God what he wouldn't give for a steady flow of this stuff. Maybe he would start that garden. In the greenhouse. It wasn't a bad idea. If they could be cultivated, then maybe they wouldn't have to rely on this cart that might vanish at any moment.
Hours later and one stop by 1307 for a few fresh bottles of moonshine, Raylan could be found on the porch of a house deep south on Jackson Boulevard. Great view of the graveyard, he thought as he kicked his feet up. Three and a half stars.