Maybe there ain't nothin' to lose anymore, because back home he sure's hell ain't got nothin' but Junior. Junior and that fucking flowered blanket on his bed. Ennis finishes up his cigarette and rolls to the side, wrapping an arm lazily around Jack and talks about Junior, Junior and that husband o' hers and what he'll ever do if he ends up having grandbabies.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2006-09-06 03:11 am (UTC)