CW for alcoholism, child abuse, Stephen King, blood, haunted hotels, drug abuse, murder, Jack Nicholson.
blueberry pancakes
Dan hadn't had pancakes this good since he was a kid. His mother used to wake up early on Saturdays and make blueberry pancakes. He'd helped Wendy as best he could, dumping the blueberries into the batter and stirring them with all the strength his child-body could muster. She'd pour the batter on to the pan to make shapes, a D, A and T for Daniel Anthony Torrance. He'd add extra blueberries and whipped cream if he could, and eat and eat until he had blueberries all over his face and he couldn't move anymore he was so stuffed.
Right now, history was working on repeating itself. Unaware of just how hungry he was, Danny had taken a few blueberry pancakes, loaded up on the whipped cream, and moved to sit at one of the many picnic tables. This whole place... There was something shiny about it, for lack of better terms. He hadn't felt anything like that since he'd last been to Colorado, standing on the Roof O' The World.
It was unsettling, but these pancakes? They were good.
Blueberry Fields
When in Rome, pick blueberries, right? He's grabbed a bushel and started grabbing the plump berries by the handful, dark juices staining his palms. Occasionally, he'd pop one in his mouth as he wandered further into the fields. Every once in a while, he'd stop to yawn. Maybe... Maybe he'd just sit down for a minute. Close his eyes...
Just like that, he was out like a light. Anyone stumbling across a full-grown man in the berry fields will be able to pick out a few key phrases and words from his dreams: Overlook, Abra, Steam and Shine.
Dream Time
The things he'd seen in his dreams.. Once he knew they couldn't hurt him. But that was before the Overlook, before the bad feelings and the hedge creatures. Now he knew his dreams meant something, even vaguely. One of the reasons, one of the many reasons (you drink because you're an alcoholic) he'd started drinking. Here, he knew his dreams meant something, too.
Sitting at an outdoor cafe, he was working on a book he'd grabbed from the local library, trying to get a better feel for the town when he saw something out of the corner of his eye roll toward him. Stopping the rolling object with his foot he bent down to pick it up. Excedrin. The green bottle kind. The kind his dad used to chew.
Setting his book down, Dan began to look around carefully, fully convinced he'd see his father ducking around the corner.
Dan Torrance | Doctor Sleep
blueberry pancakes
Dan hadn't had pancakes this good since he was a kid. His mother used to wake up early on Saturdays and make blueberry pancakes. He'd helped Wendy as best he could, dumping the blueberries into the batter and stirring them with all the strength his child-body could muster. She'd pour the batter on to the pan to make shapes, a D, A and T for Daniel Anthony Torrance. He'd add extra blueberries and whipped cream if he could, and eat and eat until he had blueberries all over his face and he couldn't move anymore he was so stuffed.
Right now, history was working on repeating itself. Unaware of just how hungry he was, Danny had taken a few blueberry pancakes, loaded up on the whipped cream, and moved to sit at one of the many picnic tables. This whole place... There was something shiny about it, for lack of better terms. He hadn't felt anything like that since he'd last been to Colorado, standing on the Roof O' The World.
It was unsettling, but these pancakes? They were good.
Blueberry Fields
When in Rome, pick blueberries, right? He's grabbed a bushel and started grabbing the plump berries by the handful, dark juices staining his palms. Occasionally, he'd pop one in his mouth as he wandered further into the fields. Every once in a while, he'd stop to yawn. Maybe... Maybe he'd just sit down for a minute. Close his eyes...
Just like that, he was out like a light. Anyone stumbling across a full-grown man in the berry fields will be able to pick out a few key phrases and words from his dreams: Overlook, Abra, Steam and Shine.
Dream Time
The things he'd seen in his dreams.. Once he knew they couldn't hurt him. But that was before the Overlook, before the bad feelings and the hedge creatures. Now he knew his dreams meant something, even vaguely. One of the reasons, one of the many reasons (you drink because you're an alcoholic) he'd started drinking. Here, he knew his dreams meant something, too.
Sitting at an outdoor cafe, he was working on a book he'd grabbed from the local library, trying to get a better feel for the town when he saw something out of the corner of his eye roll toward him. Stopping the rolling object with his foot he bent down to pick it up. Excedrin. The green bottle kind. The kind his dad used to chew.
Setting his book down, Dan began to look around carefully, fully convinced he'd see his father ducking around the corner.
Jack Torrance was nowhere to be found.