Therese Belivet (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
outofspace) wrote2021-07-31 11:08 pm
outofspace) wrote2021-07-31 11:08 pm
(no subject)
It's odd, if not entirely unexpected, how everything just seems to go back to normal as if nothing ever happened. That often tends to be the way of things around here, Therese has found, Darrow's residents bouncing back from the latest trauma startlingly fast. Usually, though, it isn't nearly everyone having been gone for weeks that they all have to recover from. Those who were gone don't seem to think they ever went anywhere. Those who are left — well, she can't speak for anyone else, and she can't say she liked all that quiet, but she's still thrown by the sudden shift, the return back to normalcy.
Mostly, and more unexpectedly, she's found herself with a barely noticeable discontent. It's strange in its own right, really, when usually she's fine just to carry on as things are, not looking for much or attempting any big changes. And she's lucky, she knows, to have a job doing what she loves. Lately, though, going back to taking pictures for the paper, she keeps thinking about the weeks she wasn't doing that, her photography on her own time and her own terms. She's always felt a bit too daunted to try to do anything of her own, but it was nice, not having that structure.
Something to think about. She wouldn't be able to stop if she tried.
As usual, she's spending her day off out with her camera, taking pictures in the park, newly filled with people again. In that regard, at least, it's nice to have things go back to normal, and nice, too, to have the freedom she did a few weeks ago. Smiling faintly to herself as she lines up a shot, she then suppresses a wince when someone walks into the frame.
"Sorry," she says, as if she's the one in the way, which she very well might be, really. "I was just trying to —"
Mostly, and more unexpectedly, she's found herself with a barely noticeable discontent. It's strange in its own right, really, when usually she's fine just to carry on as things are, not looking for much or attempting any big changes. And she's lucky, she knows, to have a job doing what she loves. Lately, though, going back to taking pictures for the paper, she keeps thinking about the weeks she wasn't doing that, her photography on her own time and her own terms. She's always felt a bit too daunted to try to do anything of her own, but it was nice, not having that structure.
Something to think about. She wouldn't be able to stop if she tried.
As usual, she's spending her day off out with her camera, taking pictures in the park, newly filled with people again. In that regard, at least, it's nice to have things go back to normal, and nice, too, to have the freedom she did a few weeks ago. Smiling faintly to herself as she lines up a shot, she then suppresses a wince when someone walks into the frame.
"Sorry," she says, as if she's the one in the way, which she very well might be, really. "I was just trying to —"