09-22-2021, 05:17 PM
Jude stopped on one foot and swayed, pausing to process. The back. The back back. He looked to the truckbed like a kicked dog, one that had pissed (or vomited) on the carpet. The laugh, correctly assumed to be about himself, triggered a visible wince. His resentment dug itself a notch deeper. Near was allowed to go first, and then Jude followed, tossing his backpack ahead of him before clambering up. Luckily he was tall, and his height balanced out the lack of drunken coordination. Once there, he scooted to the back, closest to the window, and wrapped his arms around his backpack. He closed his eyes.
Even with his eyes closed, he could still see the crashed car. It was like a beacon, a ray of unseen light erupting into the sky, broadcasting his last known position through its ultra-turbulence. He pressed his face harder into his bag. He hoped that if he curled up and did nothing, said nothing, remained motionless, that the waters would still and his trail would cool.
As the shitty suspension of the truck jostled him, Jude cracked open one eye to glare at Near. This is your fault. But it didn't matter. Near could go back to his life. He could get a new dog. He could get another rental car. He could sell the Farr estate.
Again it was too much, too much to think about overall, and especially too much to think about at the edges of alcohol poisoning -- not to mention it was still night. On second thought, Jude laid his backpack down and put his head on it. Maybe he could sleep.
Even with his eyes closed, he could still see the crashed car. It was like a beacon, a ray of unseen light erupting into the sky, broadcasting his last known position through its ultra-turbulence. He pressed his face harder into his bag. He hoped that if he curled up and did nothing, said nothing, remained motionless, that the waters would still and his trail would cool.
As the shitty suspension of the truck jostled him, Jude cracked open one eye to glare at Near. This is your fault. But it didn't matter. Near could go back to his life. He could get a new dog. He could get another rental car. He could sell the Farr estate.
Again it was too much, too much to think about overall, and especially too much to think about at the edges of alcohol poisoning -- not to mention it was still night. On second thought, Jude laid his backpack down and put his head on it. Maybe he could sleep.