![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gothamflatfootLectures were over, exams were given and graded. A few weeks now remain between commencement and the start of summer sessions.
Idle time. God, how he hates idle times.
Removing his glasses, the retired police commissioner of Gotham City sits back in his leather chair, strokes his mustache - a long-term habit - and thinks. Surely something can gain his attention, surely somewhere outside of a lecture hall he remains useful. On his lap the newspaper rests half-read, with garish details about recent murders and lurid suggestions of recent sightings of Batman.
The more outrageous allegations still bemuse him.
Fingers drum on the paper and gaze eventually falls on the folded periodical. Even without his glasses he can read a banner headline for Mother's Day flowers...and he thinks of his late wife. He thinks, too, of his daughter, and he picks up the phone to order two deliveries of flowers: one for delivery to the Grayson residence in Bludhaven, one for delivery to the Gotham City Cemetery.
(Originally posted: May 4, 2005)
Idle time. God, how he hates idle times.
Removing his glasses, the retired police commissioner of Gotham City sits back in his leather chair, strokes his mustache - a long-term habit - and thinks. Surely something can gain his attention, surely somewhere outside of a lecture hall he remains useful. On his lap the newspaper rests half-read, with garish details about recent murders and lurid suggestions of recent sightings of Batman.
The more outrageous allegations still bemuse him.
Fingers drum on the paper and gaze eventually falls on the folded periodical. Even without his glasses he can read a banner headline for Mother's Day flowers...and he thinks of his late wife. He thinks, too, of his daughter, and he picks up the phone to order two deliveries of flowers: one for delivery to the Grayson residence in Bludhaven, one for delivery to the Gotham City Cemetery.
(Originally posted: May 4, 2005)
