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Waylon Clark Grant

Jan 28, 2019 2:08:03 GMT

Adult

Male

Straight

Single

Invisibility

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Post by Waylon Clark Grant on Jan 28, 2019 2:08:03 GMT

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lunch in the park

And it's a great day to be alive
I know the sun's still shining
When I close my eyes

There's some hard times in the neighborhood

But why can't every day be just this good?

Clark had missed his lunch hour by a wide berth. He had missed all of his breaks as well. In fact, he had hardly doubted that he had sat down the entire shift. His feet ached, his back ached, and all he wanted to do was sit down in the park for ten minutes and eat his room-temperature lunch before he had to go back home. With a wave, he crossed the street to find the best part of the park. There was a perfect shady spot, not far from where the birds liked to gather, and right off of the walking trail. It wasn’t a high-traffic spot and allowed him time to sit in his scrubs and just eat and people watch if he was up to it.

The spot was empty, thank goodness, and he was able to post up at the picnic table with no problem. He allowed himself just a little bit of time to sit in the late afternoon sun and relax, the familiar tension ever-present in him. He unwound as best he could manage, starting with pulling his shoulders away from his ears. That had always been a hard one for him, just like releasing the set of his jaw. Most of the time he forgot about the stress he carried there until it bloomed into splitting headaches. It was a good week at work if he got through it without one.

This week had been one of the good ones. The cold had seemed to stem the wilder impulses of the city. Sick children and elderly people had taken up most of the ER, with broken limbs and the occasional more violent wounds making up much less of the population than usual. He had managed to steer clear of body fluids for the most part, which was always a win in his book. To boot, he hadn’t felt the familiar fear and panic swell in him, not even once. That was worth more than a luke warm lunch at five in the afternoon to celebrate, but the peace and quiet of the park was its own reward.

He popped the lid off of his salad and leisurely dug his way through for the candied walnuts in it. He would save them for last; they were a good enough reward to get through the rest of the soggy mess. Spearing a piece of lettuce with his fork, he took a first, tentative bite. It didn’t immediately taste like death, so he dived on in.

All considered, it had truly been a pretty great day.

Post by Waylon Clark Grant on Jan 28, 2019 2:08:03 GMT

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