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Arthur gulped down the last chunk of bread as Coleen woke up. She looked worse for wear than he did - even though Arthur hadn't given himself a good look in the mirror, he felt like he couldn't look too bad, being that there wasn't as much that could go wrong with features as average as his. As Coleen reached into her bag, Arthur put his own bread back down into his bag, zipped it up, and turned back to find Coleen gazing into her day pack.

"Hmm?" Arthur asked, tilting his head, "Something up?" From where he was sitting, he tried to get a better look at what could be inside the bag, but Coleen's frame blocked all angles he could've had. Besides, there wasn't much that could be going on in the first place. The worst thing that Arthur could imagine going wrong inside of a sealed bag is a bottle of water bursting, soaking all the contents inside. Now that would be a way to force someone to steal, or kill, or hunt for supplies. Pop their water bottles, just like they could pop their collars. In either case, a lot of liquid would be lost.

Arthur stood up from the bench and did some leg stretches, exercises he learned from playing soccer. Right now, there was nothing more satisfying to him than feeling his tired body and his tired mind come together in awareness and synchronicity like a finely constructed machine. He recalled a tidbit he read once about how older video games have input lag on newer televisions, meaning that the space in between, say, pressing the jump button and actually jumping was more easily perceivable. By stretching, Arthur imagined himself cutting out the input lag to his own body, hooking up to the proper hardware, so to speak.

He glanced over again at Coleen, and wondered if she would get up and do some stretches, too.
~~~~~ Creativity's Burning Pyre ~~~~~



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This Be The Verse · The Gym