The Library; Monday [ 09/29. ]

[not-a-mused.livejournal.com]

Cal limped (yes, limped, and pretty badly, too) into the library that morning to open it, grumbling into his coffee about a hatred for radio that had very firmly exceeded his previous apathy about it. Not only for radio, but also for all things small, amphibious, and shelled. He'd always been more of a frog person himself.

The pile of books waiting to be shelved got quite the glare, as well. Once he sat down, he wasn't moving. Not with those bruises on his shins.