A Cracked Jester's Mask.

[Simon Ward]

A weekend alone wasn't new to Simon. He had a bunch of them growing up in New Orleans. More came as he traveled off to train, but this one was different. One, he was home. Two, he was home. Three, he really missed Lisa. To fight off the loneliness, first he trained...a lot. Parts of their house he had set up with bars and guides for Lisa due to the lack of sight. However, Simon was a firm believer of making the world what you wanted of it. So a few of these things doubled as impromptu bars and what not for him to train. After rigorous amounts of training the restlessness was still consuming him.

He pulled out his acoustic guitar and started to play a few notes. Then as his hand started to go up to strummed own across the strings he tossed it on the couch gently. His heart wasn't in it. Simon pulled out his mp3 player and went on to the device's in house store. He thumbed through a few selections and clicked the download feature. To stay on top of his performance game Simon would often listen to a bunch of random new albums from different selections and genres. Minutes passed before everything was done then that time slipped into hours and one song made Simon almost leap out of his chair.

He began to head toward a desk grabbing stationary supplies and began to write things down. Like before, minutes turned to hours and the floor became littered with crumpled papers that had scribblings and crossed out words. One page had the word, "Sorry," and the other " Trichromatic Addict." Eventually he passed out on the couch before daylight came. Papers still littered the area but for the most part he was still alone.