Sick Day/ A Simpler Time
Bucky spent the rest of the afternoon on Joy's sofa, alternately napping and listeing to old jazz records. For the first time in over half a century, he felt at home.
He wasn't on edge. He knew he'd never be able to let himself truly go, but he began to relax a little. Was this how normal people lived? He couldn't remember.
As he slept, he dreamed of old county fairs and dances, pretty girls who had all since grown old, and a simpler way of life. When he awoke, it all came flooding back.