husk can't help but watch the rising pile of cherry stems accumulate next to the spider, making a quiet mental note of the clear level of SKILL the other possessed. an ear twitch occurred, and eyes darted from the pile back to the other as he began speaking once more.
he was dimly reminded of his own feelings regarding his situation, discounting the idea of time off and holidays as something unique to the other. he couldn't personally understand that aspect ----- his form of WORK was more of a consistent song and dance, one that he didn't get to pull the strings to. or even pick the music.
husker took a swig of his own glass before tapping on his coaster, signifying to the bartender for ANOTHER ROUND. by the sound of it, this conversation would likely be easier with a few more drinks inhabiting his liver, and his consciousness.
"different kind of WORK, but yeah, i get it." the bartender drops off his drink, and husk takes a sip, allowing his throat to burn like fire as the liquor paints his insides.
"but being able to get up the next day is a blessing and a curse, least for me. blessing in the sense that the fucker pullin' my strings doesn't snap and finally off me. and shit, the curse? same fuckin' thing." he shakes his own head a bit before tossing back the rest of his drink, pulling his right thumb and middle finger up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he places the glass back on the coaster. he releases his bridge.
"it'd be easier, i think." he plucks one of the knotted cherry stems from the pile, lifting it to be parallel with his field of vision, twirling it around his fingertips to inspect it.
"being TIED to somethin' in this place is the biggest curse of 'em all, though. whether it be some bullshit job that never ends, or another person. a fuckin' scam that we die only to do this shit all over again. just forever, and worse." he allows himself to get lost for a moment in the knot, brain symbolizing it as a metaphor for both of their own situations. he drops it back down on the bar.
"sorry. you probably don't want to hear me preachin' to the choir. what's stoppin' you from getting out of that joint, kid? soul tied to it, or just nothin' better to do?"