Another Lovely Day in the Neighbourhood

Timber fiddled with the length of wood between his fingers. Good carving material, but he wasn’t inspired to do anything with it. He’d felt off all morning, like his body wasn’t quite right. He felt both too young and too old, a weird sensation.

Campers raced around camp, making trouble for his sister. If he looked at them a little too long they seemed… off, but he couldn’t place in what way.

Campaign posters for Celestia were plastered on some of the main buildings. ‘Know what you did wrong’. It was a weird slogan and one that made Timber extremely uncomfortable.

Much like the redhead with the too big glasses. She kept giving him looks. Pity. Disappointment. Sadness. It was weird since he didn’t even remember meeting her before that day.

“Hey.”

One of the campers. Rocker look with a leather jacket over the usual attire. He looked rough. Red welts and scars along his neck and what little he could see of his arms. He had intense eyes that bespoke of barely contained anger. He was definitely Timber’s type, but he was already in a relationship with SVHKHFGS.

“Hey,” Timber greeted. “Enjoying camp?”

“Yeah, but I was looking for something more…” a glint of mischief along with a smirk “—wild.”

“Well, we have several different activities. I could—”

“Not that.” The camper waved a hand dismissively. “I was hoping for something more risky. Maybe with some company?”

Was he flirting with him? No way. Timber didn’t get flirted with. He always had to make the first move. Plus, again, he was taken.

“Not sure what you mean, but feel free to make your own fun.” He shrugged. “Just try not to stress my sister out too much.”

“Alright, see you around.” He gave a mock salute in goodbye.

“See ya,” Timber replied.

He returned to the wood in his hands.

“I’ll make sure I’m always nearby when you need me.”

Surprised, Timber looked up. The camper was gone. He wasn’t physically present, but Timber felt like he hadn’t gone far. He felt wetness on his cheeks. He touched his face to discover they were tears. Weird.

As he thought about the camper, he stared at the perfect carving stick in his hands.

He grabbed a nearby knife.

Timber had his inspiration.