Post by Jamie-Todd Peterson on Jul 23, 2009 23:06:43 GMT
Private First Class Peterson stood in the archway of the English Cathedral's doorway, leaning upon the intricate stone masonry and gently puffing at a cigarette. Jamie examined the roof of the arch distantly, his dark eyes following the cracks that had formed from decades of constant stress from supporting the roof above it. They should have built it with sturdier stone, it's a wonder its still standing now with the constant freezing and thawing... Jamie-Todd thought to himself. Ever since his Junior year back at the University of Philadelphia, he couldn't help criticizing architecture. Some nights he would lay in his bunk for hours when everyone else was asleep, staring at the ceilings and thinking about how they could have built the barracks better. Too much fluting too, weakens the stone considerably. Should have just carved it, looks just as good and hardly takes away from the stone. Shame it - "Ow!" He exclaimed quietly, his cigarette flitting down to the pavement. He had burned the tips of his fingers on the cigarette, losing it in the process. "Damn..."
Jamie dug into his breast pocket, slipping out his lighter and crumpled pack of Lucky Star cigarettes. He flipped the top off of the paper pack, and was agitated to find it empty. Jamie crumpled the pack in his hand and tossed it into the street and returned the lighter to his pocket. He sighed and looked out into the rain. So this was the way Jamie-Todd was spending his precious weekend pass, grumbling under a gloomy archway, cursing about his lack of tobacco. Jamie-Todd straightened up, rolled his shoulders, and walked into the rain. Cold droplets fell onto his face and hair, prickling the hair on the back of his hair. His tunic was damp in a few seconds, and a steady trickle of water dribbled off of the steel peak of his helmet. Jamie made a beeline toward a corner shop, since it looked as if it was the only place open on the block. Plus, he could restock on cigarettes.
Peterson pushed open the door and a bell jingled. A clerk reading a magazine looked up and nodded at Jamie. The Pfc. returned the gesture and walked up to a rack of cigarettes, picking out the cheapest pack and then started to walk toward the counter, but something caught his eye. One of the shelves was laden with cheap wines, and Jamie-Todd walked over to it and started to turn the bottles so their labels showed. He picked out a nice Merlot and went over to the counter, setting down the cigarettes and bottle of wine. The clerk rung the order up and placed the wine in a brown paper bag, handing the Merlot the smokes over to Jamie as he pulled out a crumpled wad of bills and began to count out $13.78 in pounds.
Jamie dug into his breast pocket, slipping out his lighter and crumpled pack of Lucky Star cigarettes. He flipped the top off of the paper pack, and was agitated to find it empty. Jamie crumpled the pack in his hand and tossed it into the street and returned the lighter to his pocket. He sighed and looked out into the rain. So this was the way Jamie-Todd was spending his precious weekend pass, grumbling under a gloomy archway, cursing about his lack of tobacco. Jamie-Todd straightened up, rolled his shoulders, and walked into the rain. Cold droplets fell onto his face and hair, prickling the hair on the back of his hair. His tunic was damp in a few seconds, and a steady trickle of water dribbled off of the steel peak of his helmet. Jamie made a beeline toward a corner shop, since it looked as if it was the only place open on the block. Plus, he could restock on cigarettes.
Peterson pushed open the door and a bell jingled. A clerk reading a magazine looked up and nodded at Jamie. The Pfc. returned the gesture and walked up to a rack of cigarettes, picking out the cheapest pack and then started to walk toward the counter, but something caught his eye. One of the shelves was laden with cheap wines, and Jamie-Todd walked over to it and started to turn the bottles so their labels showed. He picked out a nice Merlot and went over to the counter, setting down the cigarettes and bottle of wine. The clerk rung the order up and placed the wine in a brown paper bag, handing the Merlot the smokes over to Jamie as he pulled out a crumpled wad of bills and began to count out $13.78 in pounds.