Flowery Metaphors

Fillmore leant over the fence. His tanned arms crossed on the wooden panels and tangled hair drooping over his eyes. The sky was clear but the air was thick and humid- a storm was approaching. Hopefully like all storms out in the desert, it would be short-lived and He won't have to deal with a leaking tent again. "If it did rain I’m sure someone wouldn’t mind me crashing at their place for the night" Fillmore thought. He turned his eyes down from the blue horizon towards the Base next door. Sarge was sitting outside on the front steps with a cigarette in hand, wearing an old singlet and battered shorts. Both Doc and Fillmore had reprimanded him about his habits but the old veteran brushed them off, claiming it helped keep him calm. Fillmore sighed, it had been a few weeks since he even saw a lighter in Sarge’s hand and was hopeful he was kicking the habit- but sadly last night was a point of relapse, Fillmore grimaced at the memory. He sighed “Hey man,” his tone soft “heard you thrashing around last night. Memories got to ya?” He hoped he sounded sincere, serious was never his forte. Sarge winced and stiffened, his face a mild grimace for a moment before he stood up. He dropped the Cigarette and crushed it under boot and approached the fence.

Fillmore leant over the fence. His tanned arms crossed on the wooden panels and tangled hair drooping over his eyes. The sky was clear but the air was thick and humid- a storm was approaching. Hopefully like all storms out in the desert, it would be short-lived and He won't have to deal with a leaking tent again. "If it did rain I’m sure someone wouldn’t mind me crashing at their place for the night" Fillmore thought. He turned his eyes down from the blue horizon towards the Base next door. Sarge was sitting outside on the front steps with a cigarette in hand, wearing an old singlet and battered shorts. Both Doc and Fillmore had reprimanded him about his habits but the old veteran brushed them off, claiming it helped keep him calm. Fillmore sighed, it had been a few weeks since he even saw a lighter in Sarge’s hand and was hopeful he was kicking the habit- but sadly last night was a point of relapse, Fillmore grimaced at the memory. He sighed “Hey man,” his tone soft “heard you thrashing around last night. Memories got to ya?” He hoped he sounded sincere, serious was never his forte. Sarge winced and stiffened, his face a mild grimace for a moment before he stood up. He dropped the Cigarette and crushed it under boot and approached the fence.

Fillmore leant over the fence. His tanned arms crossed on the wooden panels and tangled hair drooping over his eyes. The sky was clear but the air was thick and humid- a storm was approaching. Hopefully like all storms out in the desert, it would be short-lived and He won't have to deal with a leaking tent again. "If it did rain I’m sure someone wouldn’t mind me crashing at their place for the night" Fillmore thought. He turned his eyes down from the blue horizon towards the Base next door. Sarge was sitting outside on the front steps with a cigarette in hand, wearing an old singlet and battered shorts. Both Doc and Fillmore had reprimanded him about his habits but the old veteran brushed them off, claiming it helped keep him calm. Fillmore sighed, it had been a few weeks since he even saw a lighter in Sarge’s hand and was hopeful he was kicking the habit- but sadly last night was a point of relapse, Fillmore grimaced at the memory. He sighed “Hey man,” his tone soft “heard you thrashing around last night. Memories got to ya?” He hoped he sounded sincere, serious was never his forte. Sarge winced and stiffened, his face a mild grimace for a moment before he stood up. He dropped the Cigarette and crushed it under boot and approached the fence.

Fillmore leant over the fence. His tanned arms crossed on the wooden panels and tangled hair drooping over his eyes. The sky was clear but the air was thick and humid- a storm was approaching. Hopefully like all storms out in the desert, it would be short-lived and He won't have to deal with a leaking tent again. "If it did rain I’m sure someone wouldn’t mind me crashing at their place for the night" Fillmore thought. He turned his eyes down from the blue horizon towards the Base next door. Sarge was sitting outside on the front steps with a cigarette in hand, wearing an old singlet and battered shorts. Both Doc and Fillmore had reprimanded him about his habits but the old veteran brushed them off, claiming it helped keep him calm. Fillmore sighed, it had been a few weeks since he even saw a lighter in Sarge’s hand and was hopeful he was kicking the habit- but sadly last night was a point of relapse, Fillmore grimaced at the memory. He sighed “Hey man,” his tone soft “heard you thrashing around last night. Memories got to ya?” He hoped he sounded sincere, serious was never his forte. Sarge winced and stiffened, his face a mild grimace for a moment before he stood up. He dropped the Cigarette and crushed it under boot and approached the fence.