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Okay, I lose and did not get my drabble written yesterday, but I rather think that discovering via my schedule that my place of employment hates me and wishes I was dead is a sufficient excuse. Besides, I kind of like this one and wouldn't have come up with it yesterday.
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owllover711 requested a Mark Bellhorn drabble. This takes place after last night's game.
DISCLAIMER: FICTION. IT IS ALL FICTION. Well, except for the bit about Bellhorn not being allowed to collect his stuff from his Fenway locker because of the Stones concert. That's true. Jackasses. But the rest I completely and totally made up because it didn't happen.
Mark is afraid there will be a subtle barrier, even though he hasn't been a Yankee for long, but there isn't. Johnny makes fun of his hair and Kevin elaborately checks his chin for whiskers and Bronson passes him a joint and it's like he never left.
Until later on, when Manny drags out a cardboard box. "You never got your stuff back, man, so here it is." All the contents of his old locker, the things they wouldn't let him in to get because of the concert.
Mark smiles his thanks and can hear the barrier slam into place.
So
owllover711 requested a Mark Bellhorn drabble. This takes place after last night's game.DISCLAIMER: FICTION. IT IS ALL FICTION. Well, except for the bit about Bellhorn not being allowed to collect his stuff from his Fenway locker because of the Stones concert. That's true. Jackasses. But the rest I completely and totally made up because it didn't happen.
Mark is afraid there will be a subtle barrier, even though he hasn't been a Yankee for long, but there isn't. Johnny makes fun of his hair and Kevin elaborately checks his chin for whiskers and Bronson passes him a joint and it's like he never left.
Until later on, when Manny drags out a cardboard box. "You never got your stuff back, man, so here it is." All the contents of his old locker, the things they wouldn't let him in to get because of the concert.
Mark smiles his thanks and can hear the barrier slam into place.
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Thank you. Love the bittersweetness. My poor boy...