He’s back. If you haven’t followed George from the beginning of his adventure, feel free to seek out his stories by scrolling down to the “Be a Seeker” box on the right side and typing in “George Mowgli.” You can also start from the very beginning by clicking here.
Her cackle from some location below elicits an involuntarily response, pushing the left side of his nose and mouth into a sneer. “No doubt she’s turned on the stupid box and is laughing at some brain-sucking sitcom. She’ll probably find it imperative to try and repeat the scene to me later. Won’t matter if I’m engrossed in a good book or napping.” He pulls his face out of the sneer as if putting a long abandoned piece of laundry back in its drawer. Matter-of-fact. No point letting more bitterness creep in.
In about three hours, Micah will either shut himself in the garage (AKA his workshop), or he’ll change into something similar to what he’s already wearing and head to his idea of a night out. Thirty-eight years old and he’s still playing Dungeons and Dragons with kids ten or fifteen years younger than him. Such a disappointment.
The moccasins that are his house shoes await him somewhere in the darkness above. He should have put them on when he came down for breakfast this morning, he knows that now. The climbing, always the climbing up and down, it was all he could think about after his morning ablutions. “Is this what athletes go through before every game,” he wonders, “or maybe soldiers before a battle? Knowing they’ve done it many times before, but worried they might just be all tapped out?” Another step … and then another … almost there.