Scene Title Demur
Synopsis Christmas returns home after a failure, and sometimes even the cruelest men are but children.
Date September 7, 2010

Christmas' Apartment

MUCH madness is divinest sense

Nearing curfew by the time he stumbles into the small apartment he has afforded his mother, Christmas looks like hell. Dried blood caked to much of his skin, skin coated in dirt, sweat and grime. His eyes bare a gazed look about them, his mouth hung half open.

To a discerning eye;

Fortunately, his mother has already fallen asleep, the small TV flickering some old movie in black and white. It casts a shadow across her body, that shadow disturbed by the body of Christmas shambling past and towards the tiny bathroom. The door soon shuts behind him.

Much sense the starkest madness.

His aching body forces itself through the routine of a shower, the curtain pulled aside to start the water and give it an acceptable temperature. Clothes are slowly peeled off a layer at a time, his mind so out of tune with body the cuts and grazes don't even cause him to wince in pain.

’T is the majority

Nude, he steps into the shower one foot after the other, slowly turning his back to the stream of water that pours out of the shower head. It runs over the sore muscles of his shoulders, dirt and mud falling off his slim frame, his head rolling back and stretching out his neck.

In this, as all, prevails.

Allowing the hot water to ease the tension and pain from his back muscles, Christmas turns around to face that steady stream, to let it beat across his face. Mouth open, eyes closed, he lets the clear jet of water to wash away the dirt and the blood, to cleanse the mistake from his face.

Assent, and you are sane;

Christmas tilts his head forward to aim the water at his hair, placing both hands up to rest on the faded, pale tile wall. Cracked and worn, it flecks off underneath the pressure of his fingertips as he starts to crack himself. Slowly, he begins to laugh, inaudible under the thunder of pouring water.

Demur,—you ’re straightway dangerous,

Then he begins to cry, a soft sobbing that begins more in his chest than it does in his eyes. He slowly bends at the knees until he falls back into the tub of the shower, cradling his arms around his knees and looking up to let the water run the tears off his cheeks.

And handled with a chain.

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