time is never time at all - [wonder] {blitz}

To say that Jesse Owens was bored was an understatement. It ate at him, gnawing at his head and limbs itching to do something other than watch the victorious 61st winner displayed upon his screen. It became tiresome, and it frustrated him to think that the Capitol didn't realise this and would perhaps play something else other than the constant replays of the finale. The thought that although the Games were officially over, but would be stretched out for months more irked the teenager especially.

With a pissed-off glare at the television, Jesse switched off the screen with a punch of the remote and slammed it down on the nearby wooden table. Escaping the household, he snuck out the back door and ignored the slam as it shut. Fingers lashed out and crept around the familiar, smooth surface of the wooden handle of an axe and took off into the forest - anger rising. It was best at times like these where he teetered on the balance of ok and not-so-ok that he distanced himself from humanity. Because a boy and an axe and a whole lot of bubbling, bitter resentment didn't seem to need explaining.