The garden was sprawling. They had planted everything that they could get to grow there, the center of attention being a large willow tree. Under the tree was a stone bench that was partly grown over with moss. Sitting on said bench was a woman who appeared to be in her mid-thirties. The sun that filtered through the willow made her hair shine like a copper pot. She was sitting modestly with one leg crossed over the other, her sundress coming down to her knees. Her pale eyes scanned over the pages of the book that sat open in her lap, her eyes only coming up from the words when she heard someone traipse through the garden toward her little spot under the willow. A smile graced her lips as she spotted her son, and she patted the seat besides her in an inviting matter. "Come here, love. I'll read to you," she started, her voice soft and loving.
The young boy couldn't think of anything better to do than sit with his mother. He could feel the sun on his face and the breeze in his hair. He wanted to join her, but he couldn't will himself to move.
The mother was concerned, her warm smile faltering. "Warren?"
"Sir? Excuse me, sir?"
The little boy's paradise collapsed around him. Instead of a sunny spring day in a garden near the coast of Durness, he found himself laying in a cracked leather booth in some sleazy dive in Edinburgh. The stranger's words swam through his ears as his consciousness came back to him.
"Sir, you can't stay here. We're closing," the voice was a woman's. He thought so, anyway. She sounded patient, but tired. Of course she was. He didn't know what time it was, but he was sure it was some ungodly hour.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," he mumbled, letting out a short groan as he sat up. He put one hand on the table to push himself up. He was struggling to sit up, much less stand. He couldn't remember if he had paid for his drinks before he passed out, so patted down the pockets of his jackets in search of his wallet before slapping down some random bills on the table. He finally glanced over at the waitress that had woken him up. She seemed to be young. Probably had a lot of potential. Well, good for her. He wasn't interested.
She sighed out a 'thank you' and a 'have a nice night' as he stumbled out, clumsily weaving his way between the tables and chairs and out onto the sidewalk. He glanced farther down the street, squinting at a neon sign he could barely make out down the way. Not everything was closed yet. He searched through his pockets for a cigarette before putting one in his mouth and slowly heading down the street and towards that neon sign. It would be a long-ass night.
