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Pick Your Poison; Wednesday Morning
Jul. 30th, 2025 03:01 amYesterday, late in the afternoon, Harley had shown up at the door of Pam's store sobbing uncontrollably, fully inconsolable and incoherent with the melodramatic weight of her grief.
The evening had been much the same, curled up on the sofa in the store, swinging between bouts of sad sulking and intermittent wailing. If Pam had gotten anything intelligible out of her beyond something about breaking up - not that that was hard to decipher into a more fleshed-out story just with educated guesswork alone - and another something about hitting a door (?) it was a small miracle.
And Harley was still there now, waking up on the very same sofa with a start. It took a moment of blinking for her to realize where she was, and another for her to remember why.
It twisted her face into something sad again, but at least she didn't immediately get into another crying jag. So, that counted as progress, right?
(for that gal whose store and person were modded with permission, with an option for that guy already in the store as well)
The evening had been much the same, curled up on the sofa in the store, swinging between bouts of sad sulking and intermittent wailing. If Pam had gotten anything intelligible out of her beyond something about breaking up - not that that was hard to decipher into a more fleshed-out story just with educated guesswork alone - and another something about hitting a door (?) it was a small miracle.
And Harley was still there now, waking up on the very same sofa with a start. It took a moment of blinking for her to realize where she was, and another for her to remember why.
It twisted her face into something sad again, but at least she didn't immediately get into another crying jag. So, that counted as progress, right?
(for that gal whose store and person were modded with permission, with an option for that guy already in the store as well)
