I couldn't utter my love when it counted
Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now
Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now
It's early enough in the afternoon that the Hanged Man is nearly empty. A pair of old regulars perch at the counter, working hard on becoming one with their stools. A young couple whispers in a corner, the flush of new romance radiating off them in waves. A sleepy-eyed and weather-worn bartender wipes down glasses, pretending to make busy as she basks in the afternoon sun.
And Koa leans upon a wooden table, one arm tucked beneath his chin, the other extended toward the fuzzy wine spider that wobbles merrily across the well-worn grain.
He's not in uniform today. Instead he's wearing a white linen top and dark blue jeans, his hair artfully tousled by the salty air. Pip sits on the table beside him, tail twitching as she stares down the spider. It's clear that she's hanging onto her self-control by the barest thread, desperate to pounce upon the arachnid, to make it either a toy or a snack.
Maybe both.
"You've got it easy, y'know." Koa tilts his head to the side as the spider meanders a little closer, as unsteady as a drunk on the side of the road. "You just hang out all day. Get drunk. Hide from predators." (Pip whines mournfully, tail twitching again). "Maybe you have a nice cask house. A wine of the month club. Some spider friends. It's a good life. Simple. No complications or responsibilities." A calloused finger pushes the spider on a course away from Pip. "Can I tell you a secret, Mister Spider? Sometimes I wish I could live like that. No expectations. Only vibes."
And Koa leans upon a wooden table, one arm tucked beneath his chin, the other extended toward the fuzzy wine spider that wobbles merrily across the well-worn grain.
He's not in uniform today. Instead he's wearing a white linen top and dark blue jeans, his hair artfully tousled by the salty air. Pip sits on the table beside him, tail twitching as she stares down the spider. It's clear that she's hanging onto her self-control by the barest thread, desperate to pounce upon the arachnid, to make it either a toy or a snack.
Maybe both.
"You've got it easy, y'know." Koa tilts his head to the side as the spider meanders a little closer, as unsteady as a drunk on the side of the road. "You just hang out all day. Get drunk. Hide from predators." (Pip whines mournfully, tail twitching again). "Maybe you have a nice cask house. A wine of the month club. Some spider friends. It's a good life. Simple. No complications or responsibilities." A calloused finger pushes the spider on a course away from Pip. "Can I tell you a secret, Mister Spider? Sometimes I wish I could live like that. No expectations. Only vibes."
Koa
And I couldn't whisper when you needed it shouted
Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now
Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now
totally sniped from odd ilu
