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 dislocated day, open
oliver tristan kohl
 Posted: Jul 6 2014, 10:30 PM
31 years old
Oliver is a pretty (overly) enthusiastic guy. Dual-licensed as an FEI/USEF show jumping judge, he regularly works as a trainer-for-hire, eager to share his knowledge with potential students.
PLAYED BY minstrel
stars are never sleeping, dead ones and the living

dislocated day
After taking a woeful sniff at an out-dated pot of yogurt that was discovered in some dark corner of his fridge, Ollie decided to venture outside his flat in search of something more appropriate for his breakfast. He'd had quite a lot to drink the night before (alcohol always seemed to help him get over his mild fear of flying) and he'd returned home to his flat in Kentucky in the wee hours of the morning, after a longer than usual journey from the UK. He hadn't had any time to purchase things for the pantry and being quite hung-over he wasn't about to stand around and trust himself to cook a decent meal.

Putting on a denim jacket he patted down his pockets to check he had all his essentials - wallet, phone, keys. Satisfied, he left the flat, pulling the door shut behind him. A quick glance at his watch as he left the building confirmed the time at 11:13 am.

His head was pounding, but the weather proved to be quite brisk, with the sunlight partly hidden beneath light cloud-cover. Instead of turning the corner to the closest convenience store, Ollie decided to head in the direction of the nearest park. Food could wait and it didn't look like it was about to rain, a good walk would wake him up a bit. Besides, he'd just gotten back in town and wanted to see if anything had changed whilst he was away, although by now he knew to expect nothing much different about the place.

He pulled out a cigarette and pursed it between his lips as he tried to catch a light.

The park was a magnet for health-nuts. Sure Ollie went for a jog there every so often, but he was always surprised by the number of people plugged into their iPods completing a solitary circuit over the number of people just, well, there. It was the weekend, however, so there were more than just the usual runners about. It wasn't a huge park. Apart from decent paved paths and some dirt tracks, the place boasted a couple of gazebos which occasionally played host to musicians. It was well-kept and incredibly green, which was one of the things that kept Ollie coming back.

He wasn't too bothered about the direction he was heading in and was enjoying his seemingly aimless walk beneath the boughs of the oak trees that lined the path he had taken. His nicotine fix had left him feeling more sprightly, too, albeit temporarily. His headache had begun to subside. Stepping off of the pavement onto a dirt path he was sure wound its way to the upper section of the park, and a cafe which resided there, Ollie practically walked straight into someone coming the other way. Bumping shoulders quite heavily, Ollie stepped back and started to apologise. "Agh I'm so sorry I should've been looking where I was going..."

idk just wanted to write
© kristen
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