…here goes nothin’. I suppose I should add the warning: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH but really it’s all okay. ~1550 words.
Shelley wasn’t quite sure who Cas was, really. He must be some relation of Mr. Winchester’s, but who?
Mr. Winchester (the residents were all Mr. This and Mrs. That - it maintained a sense of professional detachment, or at least that was the theory) occasionally talked about his younger brother Sam – it wasn’t long after Sam died, about ten years ago, that Mr. Winchester came here to Twin Pines Assisted Living. Sam’s kids – Mr. Winchester’s niece and nephew – couldn’t care for him. They traveled a lot for work, apparently. They came for Christmas sometimes (and Cas never did) and sent him birthday cards every year (and Cas never did that, either). So did their kids, and collectively the staff were pretty sure they had all the spots on the Winchester family tree filled in, so… that kind of ruled any kind of close family out.
And Mr. Winchester never had kids of his own, so not his son, not his grandson even if he was about the right age for that. Not even really much family resemblance… Cas was really good-looking, with the dark hair and blue eyes, actually. Marta, the other caregiver on the floor, needed to be reminded occasionally that it was really not professionally detached to wonder about whether the visitors were single.
Whatever he was… he came every Thursday, at 9 AM when visiting hours started, like clockwork. Some of the staff who’d been here a long time said that if the clock said it was 9:01 when he turned up, you needed to set it back a minute, because Cas was never late. But that was pretty much all anyone knew about him for sure. Nobody could even come up with his last name. He hadn’t even filled out the visitor log in years because everyone knew him, and knew he was here for Mr. Winchester, so what was to fill out?
YOU WROTE FIC OMGGG THIS IS A BEAUTIFUL MOMENT
Yes, I wrote fic! It’s not even my first one! I wrote a thing about Jo and Ellen a month or so ago!
This one apparently hit the sweet spot where I like it enough to type it and don’t like it so much that after typing it I close Word without saving so it can live on in my head without having to bear the scrutiny of others. (There are at least two in that state of existence right now.) It will hopefully still be in the sweet spot after I rewrite it.
one time when i was younger i had some of that no tears shampoo and i wanted to see if it was legit so when i was in the shower i squirted it into my eye and i think i went blind for like three days
i think you may be a bit retarded because no tears meant like no tears in your hair; no tangles….
Please tell me I’m not the only one who thought no tears as in crying too
MY LIFE IS A LIE
Damn it. Foiled by the English language again. I have ALWAYS read it as the tears that fall from your eyes, not the tears that cause breakage in your hair.
Homonyms are probably the bane of everyone attempting to learn the English language.
Putting on my chemist hat: It is supposed to be tears like crying, not tears like ripping. (Commercials for other similar shampoos pronounce it that way, definitely). Shampoo is not in my field of expertise but my understanding is that the pH is adjusted to make it less irritating. BUT if you squirt enough of pretty much anything that isn’t based on an isotonic saline solution into your eyes it’s going to sting a bit, you know?
nothing makes a gamer more nervous than when the game autosaves in a seemingly harmless location
"this is an awfully convenient collection of healing items"
"why is all this ammo here"
"where did all the enemies go"
"This room has rather a lot of wide, open space in it."
"The music stopped suddenly."
"No, there it is."
"….That’s an awful lot of bass."