[John starts to stir, then stops. Where is, it's so lovely, it's like nothing he's ever seen before. Even in the most meticulously up-kept parks in the most privileged areas of Chicago cannot compare. He feels like a young man again, laughing with his friends, sneaking into the Gold Coast private lawns with brown-bagged bottles of alcohol and the idea to see how much trouble they could cause, just to hear the news about it on the radio in the morning.
The grass is almost wrapping him up in fresh springtime. It's twining between his fingers, around his wrists, gentle but firm. It's not quite the best time for a vacation--
no subject
The grass is almost wrapping him up in fresh springtime. It's twining between his fingers, around his wrists, gentle but firm. It's not quite the best time for a vacation--
Vacation. What about it? Does it matter?
It does. Remember why.]