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Rated: E · Draft · Dark · #1846318
Calvin is suffering from PTSD.
Calvin cursed as he took his boots off to get the snow out. A freak blizzard

caused more then just his toes to go numb. A single child bold enough to

play on the old rustic swing set was the only reminder of life anywhere.

Following his own tracks home from the previous night he managed to

stumble back to his house in a night so dark even the wolves wouldn’t

be out. Under the glow of his dimming porch light shivering wearing an

old canvas colored trench coat he found on a dead body from the war he

realized his key was gone. The bad stitching job in his pocket finally took

its revenge. Guttural laughter suddenly erupted from his throat; he had

forgotten how to cry long ago. Reaching for the spare he kept under the

dusty Chinese welcome matt, he went inside and yelled “IM HOME”.

Like a tattoo from a drunken party Hobbes came out of nowhere leapt out

and pummeled him.

“You smell like those old Camel smokes we used to have in the war”

muttered Calvin under the weight of 6 ounces of stuffing and fur.

“So what, I was reminiscing in the closet with Joe Camel” said Hobbes.

Hearing the creaking of the boards underneath as Calvin rose Hobbes

abruptly scattered into a corner. “Relax, you know that the ATTACK of the

deranged mutant KILLER snow GOONS was long ago and that they can not

follow us inside” said Calvin

Hobbes, lying under a couch like an old toy some kid was trying to hide

from his mother during spring cleaning, muttered “This place is a dump”

Calvin’s blond hair was the only thing to contrast the monochrome gray

hues of the house.

“Ok I agree the place is bad enough to make a scandal on the New York

Times, but stop dodging the subject.”

With a bit of a snarl Hobbes genuinely asked “why are you such an idiot”

Calvin threw his hands up in the air and admitted “Fine, playing

Frankenstein with 2 headed snowmen was not the best idea but how

was I supposed to know that they would burn down almost the entire

neighborhood?” Hobbes exasperated “Until they got within a stone’s throw

of your house you actually helped them”

With a smirk Calvin pronounced “It is funny because its true”

The stone cold silence was only penetrated with an awkward Cuckoo Clock.

Hobbes crawled out of the couch looking like a pony first learns how to

walk holding a bottle of brandy. A surprised Calvin asked “where did you

get it?” “From the neighbors” responded Hobbes. Calvin just noticed his

tired bloodshot eyes. With a quick nod Hobbes rummaged around and found

some bowls. “No glasses” muttered Hobbes. A half hearted gulp was all

Calvin could muster as he tried to get rid of the cold but the shivers would

not go away.
© Copyright 2012 chrysopoeia (sirquiggles at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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