111 Ashan, 724
.
After partaking in a special meditative technique called ‘mantra meditation’, Kotton felt much better than he had upon first walking into his house. His nose had stopped bleeding and his heart rate had slowed from its nasty quick pace that had been brought on by anxiety. Whilst his head still throbbed, it did so less than it had before. Now he needed to unpack the belongings he had taken with him when he had gone on his walk with Spirit. He had a few minimal organisational compulsions that were commanding him as to where certain items needed to be placed and vice versa, but these compulsions were all in good faith. He liked being orderly. It helped him to know exactly where everything was when his memory failed him (which was a lot of the time).
He had already removed his healer's kit and all it contained in the way of medicine, but had decided last minute to reposition it to a more protective location, say, behind the far side of the living room couch! He knew that placement was important. There was always the possibility of intruders, and since he valued his healer’s kit, it only made sense to keep it as safe as possible. His arm brushed past Spirit’s tail as he placed it behind the couch. She raised her head, alert. Her fluffy tail bounced amongst the couch cushions in preparation.
“It’s okay,” Kotton reassured her before giving a soft pat on her head.
The next thing he unpacked was every grocery item he had purchased over the course of the trial. Fortunately, nothing perishable had… well… perished during his impromptu brawl. And whilst the temperature outside was hot, it wasn’t incredibly humid. He set these items down next to the healer's kit behind the couch. He would come back to them later. After he did this, he noticed one of his herbal supplements had nearly fallen out of its kit. Had he missed this when relocating it? Picking it up, Kotton searched for the bottle's label and found it to declare a very particular substance-raspberry leaf tea to be exact. He had heard of such a remedy, but had completely forgotten that he was of ownership of it. It didn’t take long for him to recall the exact time and date he had received it. He had purchased on a whim, when his friend Fysha, a young woman he had met during a game created by a group of friends, had started experiencing terrible cramps. He turned the bottle to read what it was used for. It read, ‘to treat cramping due to the onset of a women’s bleeding period’. It was also used to help alleviate the pain associated with labour and postpartum recovery. Whilst he knew he would never need this personally, he had many female friends, so he tucked the bottle nicely back inside his healer’s kit.
As he was situating it next to the other supplies inside, he couldn’t help but notice another herbal remedy. This one was eye-catching, bold print declaring what it was and what it was used for. It said ‘ginger’ in capital letters and described it as a treatment for ‘stomach pains, nausea and joint pain’.
As herbal remedies went, Kotton was a little sceptical of its potency and effect. Still, he was nonetheless willing to accept what was given to him. His nose still hurt after all, even more so now that time had latched its malicious claws into him. His thighs were also burning from all the running he had done and his head felt still like it was being walloped again and again by a rubber mallet. Dismissing the rapsberry tea leaf with the purpose of finding a better suitor, Kotton hoped this ‘ginger’ would heal his wounds from the inside out quicker than what was possible by raising his injured limbs above his heart. He had learnt this trick as a nurse. The same veteran nurse he had consulted about the bloody nose technique, had demonstrated to him this technique. It had occurred during the same conversation as the one that included ‘throbbing’, ‘clotting’ and ‘elevation’. It seemed that by raising a haemorrhaging appendage above the heart, there would be less bleeding. Every tip and trick he was taught went right into his notebook and he would be damned if he didn’t look at it once or twice a trial. His notebook was a gold mine of information and it had become just as pertinent to him as a coworker's voice inside his head.
A blank book, feathered quill and a vial of stark, black ink- those were the next items that appeared within his rucksack that awaited organisation. These items were taken and placed gingerly on top of the coffee table in front of his couch. Whilst he would have normally placed them on the chest at the end of his bed, he had come to learn that he slept on the couch more often than he did on his actual mattress. And his dreams were often filled with insight and inspiration, theories and ideas, that necessitated immediate documentation. Therefore, he placed the items in question in the very centre of his coffee table, knowing he would look at them sooner than later.
He unloaded his mortar and pestle and placed them next to the preserving kit and healer's toolbox, adjusting their position so that they were tilted at a ninety degree angle. Why was this in his knapsack to begin with? He couldn’t recall, but man, had he known, he would have made great strides to remove it before taking his canine for a walk. It weighed a ton and more than likely slowed his pace to retreat by volumes. But, hindsight, after all, was the understanding of a situation or event only after it has happened. He was all too familiar with this, especially when many of the choices he had made were in haste and infused with doubt upon doubt.
Inherent order still dominant, Kotton admired his ability to have things be a certain way. If something wasn’t clean, or if something wasn’t placed in a correct way, or if something wasn’t where he had originally left it, an unnecessary challenge would naturally rise up to fight him during his daily routine. He was a strong proponent of foreword thinking. Looking into the future was not only smart, it was logistical. But more importantly, it was something he was able to control. Orderliness and consortium kept the 'what's' and the 'why's' to a minimum. It made planning and implementation so much easier. Organisation kept any potential issues in check so long as they dutifully adhered to the concept of 'what could be' with accessible contingencies available. Being overly organised may seem like a problem to some, but to others, it was a blessing that gave
A loud grumble of disgust nearly knocked Kotton to the floor. The sound was so loud it scared him and nearly woke up Spirit, who had just now fallen asleep next to one of the many cushions on the living room couch.
The young man glanced down at his stomach and was reminded that during all this time, he had completely forgotten how hungry he was. Walking, fighting, protecting, running and tending to his physical health took a toll on him that he had completely forgotten to register as important for his overall well-being. He made way for the kitchen and pulled a can of green beans out from one of his several cabinets. One look at the label and he sighed, placing back where he had taken it from the shelf. It had expired. Or so the can claimed to say. He didn’t understand fully what was safe to eat and what was determined to be ‘expired’. He quickly looked to his ice box where he had a few pieces of cheese. He also looked to the drawer next to the ice box where he had a small bag containing almonds. But these were snack foods. He was too hungry to simply indulge in snacks.
Kotton never thought he would have made it to the front door. He was almost positive that if he hadn’t grasped the armrest of his couch, he would have collapsed face first onto the hardwood floor. He didn’t need to bust up his nose more than it already had been. He quickly took out the pieces of gauze from inside his nose and threw them into the rubbish bin across the room. It was actually rather astounding they made it into the bin since it was so far away. His fingers were left slightly sticky from having touched his bodily fluids so he briskly wiped them on his pant legs, stifling a look of disgust.
His stomach growled, again, for food louder than his body seemed to scream for rest. This was enough for him reach for the door knob and force it open. He took a step outside and absentmindedly started walking down the stairs onto the city street.
But where did he go from there? He hadn’t the motivation to trek to a local grocer, much less the energy to make food from the groceries he just purchased. He had heard of several locals gossiping about an unusual joint called “Cally’s”, though. He didn't have the energy or motivation to explore anything other than the rumour that traipsed along his most cursory memory.
Kotton kicked a loose pebble, lost from its family of stony engravings, on the road he walked on. The street lights had all turned on, for it was near time for everyone to be in bed and asleep. Kotton was even still contemplating whether he should return back to his house to rest or continue wandering the streets aimlessly in hopes of a restaurant worthy to fill his ravenous body.
"Damn it!" he shouted. He was fed up with being hungry and was near fretting with the inability of being able to find a place to ease his hunger. That was until his eyes gazed across an eloquent establishment with bright candle. They illuminated a sign that stated “Cally’s”. Kotton could not have felt luckier than in that very moment.
He turned the handle of the front door and was introduced to a world of amazing smells and sublime comfort.
He had already removed his healer's kit and all it contained in the way of medicine, but had decided last minute to reposition it to a more protective location, say, behind the far side of the living room couch! He knew that placement was important. There was always the possibility of intruders, and since he valued his healer’s kit, it only made sense to keep it as safe as possible. His arm brushed past Spirit’s tail as he placed it behind the couch. She raised her head, alert. Her fluffy tail bounced amongst the couch cushions in preparation.
“It’s okay,” Kotton reassured her before giving a soft pat on her head.
The next thing he unpacked was every grocery item he had purchased over the course of the trial. Fortunately, nothing perishable had… well… perished during his impromptu brawl. And whilst the temperature outside was hot, it wasn’t incredibly humid. He set these items down next to the healer's kit behind the couch. He would come back to them later. After he did this, he noticed one of his herbal supplements had nearly fallen out of its kit. Had he missed this when relocating it? Picking it up, Kotton searched for the bottle's label and found it to declare a very particular substance-raspberry leaf tea to be exact. He had heard of such a remedy, but had completely forgotten that he was of ownership of it. It didn’t take long for him to recall the exact time and date he had received it. He had purchased on a whim, when his friend Fysha, a young woman he had met during a game created by a group of friends, had started experiencing terrible cramps. He turned the bottle to read what it was used for. It read, ‘to treat cramping due to the onset of a women’s bleeding period’. It was also used to help alleviate the pain associated with labour and postpartum recovery. Whilst he knew he would never need this personally, he had many female friends, so he tucked the bottle nicely back inside his healer’s kit.
As he was situating it next to the other supplies inside, he couldn’t help but notice another herbal remedy. This one was eye-catching, bold print declaring what it was and what it was used for. It said ‘ginger’ in capital letters and described it as a treatment for ‘stomach pains, nausea and joint pain’.
As herbal remedies went, Kotton was a little sceptical of its potency and effect. Still, he was nonetheless willing to accept what was given to him. His nose still hurt after all, even more so now that time had latched its malicious claws into him. His thighs were also burning from all the running he had done and his head felt still like it was being walloped again and again by a rubber mallet. Dismissing the rapsberry tea leaf with the purpose of finding a better suitor, Kotton hoped this ‘ginger’ would heal his wounds from the inside out quicker than what was possible by raising his injured limbs above his heart. He had learnt this trick as a nurse. The same veteran nurse he had consulted about the bloody nose technique, had demonstrated to him this technique. It had occurred during the same conversation as the one that included ‘throbbing’, ‘clotting’ and ‘elevation’. It seemed that by raising a haemorrhaging appendage above the heart, there would be less bleeding. Every tip and trick he was taught went right into his notebook and he would be damned if he didn’t look at it once or twice a trial. His notebook was a gold mine of information and it had become just as pertinent to him as a coworker's voice inside his head.
A blank book, feathered quill and a vial of stark, black ink- those were the next items that appeared within his rucksack that awaited organisation. These items were taken and placed gingerly on top of the coffee table in front of his couch. Whilst he would have normally placed them on the chest at the end of his bed, he had come to learn that he slept on the couch more often than he did on his actual mattress. And his dreams were often filled with insight and inspiration, theories and ideas, that necessitated immediate documentation. Therefore, he placed the items in question in the very centre of his coffee table, knowing he would look at them sooner than later.
He unloaded his mortar and pestle and placed them next to the preserving kit and healer's toolbox, adjusting their position so that they were tilted at a ninety degree angle. Why was this in his knapsack to begin with? He couldn’t recall, but man, had he known, he would have made great strides to remove it before taking his canine for a walk. It weighed a ton and more than likely slowed his pace to retreat by volumes. But, hindsight, after all, was the understanding of a situation or event only after it has happened. He was all too familiar with this, especially when many of the choices he had made were in haste and infused with doubt upon doubt.
Inherent order still dominant, Kotton admired his ability to have things be a certain way. If something wasn’t clean, or if something wasn’t placed in a correct way, or if something wasn’t where he had originally left it, an unnecessary challenge would naturally rise up to fight him during his daily routine. He was a strong proponent of foreword thinking. Looking into the future was not only smart, it was logistical. But more importantly, it was something he was able to control. Orderliness and consortium kept the 'what's' and the 'why's' to a minimum. It made planning and implementation so much easier. Organisation kept any potential issues in check so long as they dutifully adhered to the concept of 'what could be' with accessible contingencies available. Being overly organised may seem like a problem to some, but to others, it was a blessing that gave
A loud grumble of disgust nearly knocked Kotton to the floor. The sound was so loud it scared him and nearly woke up Spirit, who had just now fallen asleep next to one of the many cushions on the living room couch.
The young man glanced down at his stomach and was reminded that during all this time, he had completely forgotten how hungry he was. Walking, fighting, protecting, running and tending to his physical health took a toll on him that he had completely forgotten to register as important for his overall well-being. He made way for the kitchen and pulled a can of green beans out from one of his several cabinets. One look at the label and he sighed, placing back where he had taken it from the shelf. It had expired. Or so the can claimed to say. He didn’t understand fully what was safe to eat and what was determined to be ‘expired’. He quickly looked to his ice box where he had a few pieces of cheese. He also looked to the drawer next to the ice box where he had a small bag containing almonds. But these were snack foods. He was too hungry to simply indulge in snacks.
Kotton never thought he would have made it to the front door. He was almost positive that if he hadn’t grasped the armrest of his couch, he would have collapsed face first onto the hardwood floor. He didn’t need to bust up his nose more than it already had been. He quickly took out the pieces of gauze from inside his nose and threw them into the rubbish bin across the room. It was actually rather astounding they made it into the bin since it was so far away. His fingers were left slightly sticky from having touched his bodily fluids so he briskly wiped them on his pant legs, stifling a look of disgust.
His stomach growled, again, for food louder than his body seemed to scream for rest. This was enough for him reach for the door knob and force it open. He took a step outside and absentmindedly started walking down the stairs onto the city street.
But where did he go from there? He hadn’t the motivation to trek to a local grocer, much less the energy to make food from the groceries he just purchased. He had heard of several locals gossiping about an unusual joint called “Cally’s”, though. He didn't have the energy or motivation to explore anything other than the rumour that traipsed along his most cursory memory.
Kotton kicked a loose pebble, lost from its family of stony engravings, on the road he walked on. The street lights had all turned on, for it was near time for everyone to be in bed and asleep. Kotton was even still contemplating whether he should return back to his house to rest or continue wandering the streets aimlessly in hopes of a restaurant worthy to fill his ravenous body.
"Damn it!" he shouted. He was fed up with being hungry and was near fretting with the inability of being able to find a place to ease his hunger. That was until his eyes gazed across an eloquent establishment with bright candle. They illuminated a sign that stated “Cally’s”. Kotton could not have felt luckier than in that very moment.
He turned the handle of the front door and was introduced to a world of amazing smells and sublime comfort.