#quinwalker

Quin had woken restless. Movement itself had skittered under his skin, flinging him from corner of the trailer to the other while the usually comforting space shrunk with each step. Even the patio had seemed too small to contain the energy bouncing between each cell. After his husband banished him from the trailer, Quin had lingered outside, slapped down tarot cards to find a focus and found that he couldn't sink even to the calm of familiar motions. Going hung like an apple out of reach, tempting and luring him onto his bike. But rather than chase state lines until the sun set, he turned towards town. The streets of Barton Hollow had grown familiar in a way that, as a child during the summer, he never would've imagined. Three months out of year still left a location with mystery - secret places to discover when two small boys ran wild. But time and responsibility stripped the mysteries from the day-to-day from most places. Though, this was hardly most places.