@dcllparted // ˢ ᵗ ᵃ ʳ ᵗ ᵉ ʳ .
---- SIMON, having just turned the dazzling age of eighteen, nods curtly at the girl to his left. he doesn’t know her -- or, more, he doesn’t think he knows her. blood on his knuckles && beer down his shirt, bags of white dust disappear into the abyss that is sick boy’s trouser pocket. he meets eyes with the strange woman.
“ -- so, ” begins he. “ ye was nae lookin’ to keep any of the gear, was ye ?? i dunnae mind sharin’. ”













