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sick_wilson2010-06-28 10:23 am
moose-mcmoose.livejournal.com) wrote in sick_wilson2010-06-28 10:23 am
Entry tags:
Drabble: Early Morning Rush
Title: Early Morning Rush
Characters/Pairings: Wilson
Rating: PG
Word Count: 153
Disclaimer: Not mine. A shame, as then I could buy some new t-shirts. (I HAVE FINALLY GOT THE JEANS)
Summary: The morning does not start well.
For the Tic Tac Toe Challenge. Prompts were 'Necktie, Cup of Coffee and Sidewalk'
Wilson usually took early mornings pretty well, after a strong cup of coffee and heap of French toast, but everything was a little off today. His shirt was crinkled, his belt looped in the wrong hole, even his normally meticulously knotted neck tie was skewed slightly to the left. He didn't have time to worry about that, however, as he sped from the entrance to his apartment block, towards his Volvo parked on the sidewalk, a sweet coffee in one hand, natty briefcase in another.
Wilson had never been one to take surprises well, so when his foot stubbed ungracefully against a raised sidewalk slab, he had little time to prepare his body for the feeling of heavy contact between flesh and concrete.
With coffee splayed down his shirt, his briefcase another few metres down the sidewalk, he turned his head back to the offending slab and promptly rose his middle finger.
Characters/Pairings: Wilson
Rating: PG
Word Count: 153
Disclaimer: Not mine. A shame, as then I could buy some new t-shirts. (I HAVE FINALLY GOT THE JEANS)
Summary: The morning does not start well.
For the Tic Tac Toe Challenge. Prompts were 'Necktie, Cup of Coffee and Sidewalk'
Wilson usually took early mornings pretty well, after a strong cup of coffee and heap of French toast, but everything was a little off today. His shirt was crinkled, his belt looped in the wrong hole, even his normally meticulously knotted neck tie was skewed slightly to the left. He didn't have time to worry about that, however, as he sped from the entrance to his apartment block, towards his Volvo parked on the sidewalk, a sweet coffee in one hand, natty briefcase in another.
Wilson had never been one to take surprises well, so when his foot stubbed ungracefully against a raised sidewalk slab, he had little time to prepare his body for the feeling of heavy contact between flesh and concrete.
With coffee splayed down his shirt, his briefcase another few metres down the sidewalk, he turned his head back to the offending slab and promptly rose his middle finger.
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Great job, as always!
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I swear, I'll just be walking along, minding my own business, and inanimate objects will viciously and maliciously jump out and attack me. That's my story anyway, and I'm sticking to it.
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Wonderfully written!
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:D :D :D