Post by riggins joseph mccauley on Jul 5, 2021 13:18:37 GMT -5
It was one of those days. Which, for Riggins, happened usually once a week; they just differed in the intensity of how messed up they were. Today was somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, and most of it seemed to be caused by Riggins and his own clumsiness. His clumsiness only ever manifested itself when his anxiety was bad and after waking from a dream where he thought he was late for his mid-term, he’d been left on edge – even if he woke up at 5am and quickly felt like an idiot when he was scrambling from his bed, tangled in the blankets, only to almost faceplant his balcony doors to the sunrise. From there it seemed to be one thing after another, and by lunchtime he was carting about a broken satchel, had a coffee stain on his white t-shirt, and a dying cell phone battery.
He moved through the crowd of students, trying to get through the roving crowds without causing another incident. He barely remembered the last hour, or the lecture that had slotted into that time. He was instead occupied by collecting his things after the strap snapped and his bag emptied its contents around the seat that he always sat in. After that he had been distracted with wondering if there was some way to fix the bag – at least long enough for him to get home with his belongings. If he had enough battery on his phone, or if he hadn’t left his charger at work, he might have already been figuring out a way to get a copy of someone else’s notes. All he wanted now was to get through the throng of students and find somewhere he could sit to take stock of his situation.
As the best laid plans often go awry, Riggins should have known better. He was so hyper-focused on getting to an empty space with a seat, that he didn’t notice the Java Hut employee trying to move a half-delivered delivery across to the shop until it was too late. By that point, Riggins tried to stop, but his foot caught on the heel of the girl in front of him, and that set off a chain reaction he could do nothing to prevent. The cartons of milk slipped from the edge of the protective packaging and exploded on impact as they hit the people, the ground, and the edge of a vending machine. Riggins meanwhile couldn’t stop the follow through and found himself crashing to the ground on top of the poor girl he had tripped himself over. Milk did not provide a good cushion to any fall, and he was groaning as he tried to scramble off her. “I am so sorry.” He blurted, reaching out to tug her upright to make sure she was okay. “Everything happened so fast, and then your shoe was under my clown feet, and the milk…” He was breathless, panting as everyone else around reacted to the unwanted shower of milk. “Are you alright?” He was deliberately choosing to ignore the panicked employee in case he realised the cause of this disaster had actually been Riggins.
• • •
TAGGED! Mildred Scarlett Moon
WORDS! 533!
LYRICS! Nobody - - - Halestorm
NOTES! <3
