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Sep. 11th, 2013 10:01 pmIt's the sort of thing that probably ought to get boring after a while. Spending her days lying out on the beach doesn't exactly lend itself to all that much variety, after all. Summer grew up around beaches, however, and though she'd initially thought it was pretty freaking cruel, putting her in an apartment overlooking one when all it did was remind her of Newport, she's since more than come around to the idea. Warm weather has helped. So has not being the only person from home here. And, okay, that has a lot more to do with it, but even so, not having to worry about freezing to death every time she sets foot out of her apartment is pretty noteworthy, too.
That, she thinks, is also all the more reason to make the most of this while she can. She has a job now, doing something that she loves, even, and not just some ridiculous menial task to pay the bills, but she still has a lot of free time on her hands, and the summer isn't going to last forever. In a matter of weeks, probably, it'll be far too chilly for her to even think about passing a morning this way, stretched out on a towel, weight back on her elbows. There's a book in her purse and her phone is beside her — she's already thinking about calling Cohen, though she isn't sure if he's working at the comic book shop today or not — but for now, she's got her eyes shut against the sun, oblivious to most everything else.
At least, she is until the breeze picks up a little, unexpectedly so. She'd blame the oncoming change of seasons if she had the presence of mind to do so. As it is, she's far more concerned with the hat she'd been wearing, now airborne, floating farther away from where she's set up her towel and therefore from her grasp.
"Damn it," she hisses, scrambling to her knees and then her feet, hoping she can grab it before some thoughtless kid tramples it. When she spots someone running just a little ways off, though, in the same direction that her hat has flown, she takes a chance and calls after him instead. It seems better than getting herself all covered with sand or risking the same gust picking up her towel. "Hey, do you think you could —"
That, she thinks, is also all the more reason to make the most of this while she can. She has a job now, doing something that she loves, even, and not just some ridiculous menial task to pay the bills, but she still has a lot of free time on her hands, and the summer isn't going to last forever. In a matter of weeks, probably, it'll be far too chilly for her to even think about passing a morning this way, stretched out on a towel, weight back on her elbows. There's a book in her purse and her phone is beside her — she's already thinking about calling Cohen, though she isn't sure if he's working at the comic book shop today or not — but for now, she's got her eyes shut against the sun, oblivious to most everything else.
At least, she is until the breeze picks up a little, unexpectedly so. She'd blame the oncoming change of seasons if she had the presence of mind to do so. As it is, she's far more concerned with the hat she'd been wearing, now airborne, floating farther away from where she's set up her towel and therefore from her grasp.
"Damn it," she hisses, scrambling to her knees and then her feet, hoping she can grab it before some thoughtless kid tramples it. When she spots someone running just a little ways off, though, in the same direction that her hat has flown, she takes a chance and calls after him instead. It seems better than getting herself all covered with sand or risking the same gust picking up her towel. "Hey, do you think you could —"
