No one appreciates the very special genius of your conversation as the dog does. - Christopher Morley
Murdock wandered across the room. His hand brushed across the top of the pinball machine. He'd played that so much the last couple of days...
Boring. Boring. Boring.
He shuffled through his comic books. Not the day for those, either. Contrary to popular belief, he didn't read them constantly. He had to be in the right mood.
Today he wasn't in the right mood.
He thought about going over to the rec room, seeing if anybody was around for some ping pong. But the only one that was any good was Ralph and Ralph had been discharged a week ago. He didn't feel like jigsaw puzzles, either.
Most of them had pieces missing anyway.
He stared out the window. Cloudy today. Warm. He could take a walk but he knew the grounds by heart.
Same old same old.
He thought about calling Face or Hannibal but they were off on some movie shoot. Another monster movie. He didn't know what Face was doing this time. Something to rip off the crew without their knowing it.
He flopped down on the bed. He didn't really want to do anything. He just... he just wanted someone to talk to. Someone that wouldn't turn the conversation to their own problems. Or try to analyze everything he said. Or indulge his fantasies or tell him to shut up.
He just wanted someone who would listen.