Post by riley on Mar 22, 2011 12:03:07 GMT -5
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Lifting the shovel from the ground and tossing the dirt into a wheelbarrow, Riley straightened and cracked his spine, dragging his forearm across his brow, smearing a little dirt across his forehead. For the last three days Riley had been in New York, working on a rose garden in this posh hotel, the palace or something – he wasn’t really paying attention so much as he was concentrating on the work and the money, and he was about halfway down with the small scale remodel. So far it was turning out to be more of a gardeners job that a landscapist, but Riley wasn’t picky. He took the money where it came – whether that meant laying patio, digging up dead rose bushes or installing a koi pond.
Grabbing a bottle of water, Riley drained the contents and tossed it into the box he was using as garbage right now, and cracked his shoulders. Damn his head hurt. He knew drinking that bottle of jack the night before had been a bad idea, but recently he had found oblivion in the bottom of the bottle – the same oblivion he found when he was working or boxing, but recently it had been harder to come across. He had to keep his hands busy, or his mind wandered to the ‘new family’ that seemed intent on driving him insane, and the part of himself he had stopped acknowledging as teen. Right now, it was easier to ignore with the alcohol running through his blood stream – a feeling not unlike that which had given him solace in his teenage years gained by the passing of a blade across his skin.
Waving, a smirk crossed his features as he spotted two girls who seemed to have made it their business to walk past the garden several times a day. He presumed they were staying at the hotel, and though should they decide to come over and talk to him he would clam up and stumble over his words, he was perfectly capable of returning their friendly gesture... just as long as they stayed over there, and out of his way.
In the next half hour, they walked past twice more and riley finished clearing the flower bed he was working on of the dead plants and the winters waste, filling his wheelbarrow. Clapping his gloved hands together to removes excess dirt clods that clung to the coarse, thick material, Riley rose from his knees and grabbed the handles of the wheelbarrow, pushing it out to the skip hidden around the side of the hotel, near the bins and out of the way.
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#Tag#Open
#Wearing#clicky
#Listening to#Random Playlist
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