Luke Bennett
Well-Known Member
- Messages
- 143
Luke gave an exasperated sigh as he swaggered into the house that he had grown up in. Having already done his time in Basic training he could be called away from home any day, but at the moment he had not been informed to go on duty. Today was hot, excruciatingly hot, weather that Minnesota had not harbored in a long time. While it usually got into the high nineties at the worst part of the summer it was never so persistent. Long, hot summers usually indicated long, cold winters, something that the nineteen year old was not looking forward to.
He couldn't have picked a possibly worse day to offer to fix the transmission, but what could he say? He hated being bored. Thus, he found himself outside while his mother and father ran a few errands. Further, he had been dumb enough to wear a white shirt. In no time he was drenched with sweat and oil, beads of moisture seeming to seep out of every pore in his body. He groaned as he moved across the tiled floor. The air conditioning, it seemed, was taking a hell of a long time to kick in. The young man swore as he opened the fridge, and reaching into the cabinet he grabbed a glass for water. Taking a long drought of it he poured the rest into his hair. Realizing that sitting in a sticky, wet shirt would be uncomfortable, he peeled it off, throwing it in the hallway towards the laundry room.
Drawing another glass of water he sat shirtless in the kitchen, quite glad that no one else was around. His mother would have yelled at him for being indecent or something of the sort, and he knew she would just flip if she saw a dirty shirt sitting on the clean floor. Well, what she didn't know wouldn't kill her. With a sigh he kicked back in one of the wooden kitchen chairs, figuring he would wait a bit before going back outside. It was nice to get out of the sun for a while, despite the fact that it was quite warm inside as well.
He couldn't have picked a possibly worse day to offer to fix the transmission, but what could he say? He hated being bored. Thus, he found himself outside while his mother and father ran a few errands. Further, he had been dumb enough to wear a white shirt. In no time he was drenched with sweat and oil, beads of moisture seeming to seep out of every pore in his body. He groaned as he moved across the tiled floor. The air conditioning, it seemed, was taking a hell of a long time to kick in. The young man swore as he opened the fridge, and reaching into the cabinet he grabbed a glass for water. Taking a long drought of it he poured the rest into his hair. Realizing that sitting in a sticky, wet shirt would be uncomfortable, he peeled it off, throwing it in the hallway towards the laundry room.
Drawing another glass of water he sat shirtless in the kitchen, quite glad that no one else was around. His mother would have yelled at him for being indecent or something of the sort, and he knew she would just flip if she saw a dirty shirt sitting on the clean floor. Well, what she didn't know wouldn't kill her. With a sigh he kicked back in one of the wooden kitchen chairs, figuring he would wait a bit before going back outside. It was nice to get out of the sun for a while, despite the fact that it was quite warm inside as well.