fireinthehole: (corn liquor)
It's been a while since Boyd has been outside. He doesn't like it. And while it'll take some work to get the crop back where it ought to be, it won't be as bad as it was when he found it. Probably.

And he won't be out in the forest, which is creepy.

But for now, he's over by the fire -- not sitting in a chair, standing by the window, looking out to the back, where he won't go. He's got a glass in his hand.

It's remarkably quiet.
fireinthehole: (corn liquor)
He's not over in Cumberland for once, he's in Corbin, because as dark as he feels right now Boyd knows that Cumberland is the closest place to drink, that Cumberland is a small town, and that he can't afford for word to get out that Boyd Crowder is banned from one establishment. If he gets banned from one, others may follow. And then it's Corbin for good.

If only he got to drink at home. But his landlady says no. And it's not even for his own good, it's for her own good. And Boyd knows -- Boyd believes, Boyd wants to atone -- that he owes Ava that much respect, after their past history. After the things he's done.

So Boyd respects the rules of her house. Boyd does his drinking elsewhere.

And tonight it's Corbin, or rather just barely inside the city limits, and it's a shitty bar, and it's a look the wrong way after a too-long shift and a man who won't get out of his face and it's punches thrown, a bloody nose, a split lip, a black eye. Boyd doesn't remember getting home. Boyd finds himself sitting in his truck in front of a dark house, and it's another ten minutes before he gets up the will to get himself out of the cab and up the steps to the porch.
fireinthehole: (Default)
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Boyd Crowder

October 2012

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