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Dec. 6th, 2018 06:12 amShe's walked by it more than a dozen times now. The figure seems odd to consider when she's been in Darrow such a short time, but Julia didn't hesitate to go out looking for work, which came about rather easily. With the holidays approaching, every store possible seems to be hiring seasonal workers, and it seems like as good a place to start as any. She has plenty of experience as a shopgirl, and though that may have been some seventy years ago, she doesn't think things could have changed so much as all that. The registers are different, the computers that operate them even more so and entirely baffling, but most of what she finds herself doing is the same as it ever was. The routine of it holds no inconsiderable amount of comfort. It's hardly fulfilling, but neither was it before. She doesn't need fulfilling; she just needs to be doing something, even if that's only just going through the motions of a life like she did after Michael died.
There could be more for her, if she wanted that. Something in her woke up when Donny first dragged her up to sing with him, and the past few weeks, before this place, she felt more alive than she had in well over a year, or maybe more than that. Despite knowing that she couldn't have had any say in showing up here, though, it feels a little like maybe it's time to give up on that dream. She can still scribble her poems in a notebook, still consider that they might make good lyrics. She can go back to singing in a church choir. But losing the band and the chance to compete has been a considerable blow, and in the absence of that, it's easy to chide herself and call it foolish, say that she ought to put the whole thing to bed.
It would be easier if she didn't pass by the music store on her way to and from work each day. Every time, she's tempted to go in and look at the instruments, and every time, it hurts a little to make herself keep walking instead. In the end, she wears down easily. It can't hurt to look, to have something to occupy herself with. Growing up, they always had at least a piano in the house. Her apartment now is empty and inhabited only by her. A hobby wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.
When she finally does walk in one afternoon, it's almost surprising how much there seems to be. At least her own choices of instruments are few. She doesn't know where in here or even if she might be able to find a ukulele, but she's in no hurry, instead wandering around slowly, the sight of everything bittersweet as she takes it all in.
There could be more for her, if she wanted that. Something in her woke up when Donny first dragged her up to sing with him, and the past few weeks, before this place, she felt more alive than she had in well over a year, or maybe more than that. Despite knowing that she couldn't have had any say in showing up here, though, it feels a little like maybe it's time to give up on that dream. She can still scribble her poems in a notebook, still consider that they might make good lyrics. She can go back to singing in a church choir. But losing the band and the chance to compete has been a considerable blow, and in the absence of that, it's easy to chide herself and call it foolish, say that she ought to put the whole thing to bed.
It would be easier if she didn't pass by the music store on her way to and from work each day. Every time, she's tempted to go in and look at the instruments, and every time, it hurts a little to make herself keep walking instead. In the end, she wears down easily. It can't hurt to look, to have something to occupy herself with. Growing up, they always had at least a piano in the house. Her apartment now is empty and inhabited only by her. A hobby wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.
When she finally does walk in one afternoon, it's almost surprising how much there seems to be. At least her own choices of instruments are few. She doesn't know where in here or even if she might be able to find a ukulele, but she's in no hurry, instead wandering around slowly, the sight of everything bittersweet as she takes it all in.
