(no subject)

[tibetanmethod]

He goes to the bar to have a cup of coffee. Coffee is good. Coffee

(coffee that stays coffee)

smells good, it's a symbol of everything true and right and pure, it keeps the long arm of the law healthy and active. It cures what ails you.

Cooper takes a sip, and another. He's got a hand resting on the Bar, and the other hand holding his cup of coffee.

A moment later, he puts the cup down and goes down the (thank god) well-lit corridor to the men's restroom, moving steadily, calmly, as though nothing is wrong.




He notes absently in the stall a lot of Chinese, but he doesn't read it, because he's throwing up.


Ten minutes later the sound of a faucet turning on, and the paper towel dispenser fulfilling its function.

And then, eyes a little reddened, Cooper leaves the restroom and heads, head down, back into the main bar and up the stairs.



His cup of coffee is still resting on the barstool where he left it.

Comments

[blue_ajah]

The hallway upstairs is quiet, and undisturbed.

Two-thirds of the way along, a steady soft glow from a warded doorway illuminates the area around it.