Lying on her back, limbs draped across the sofa haphazardly, Penny’s eyes were fixed on the ceiling, humming along to The Smiths’ Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now as it groaned from her record player across the room. Upon waking up that morning still drunk from the night before, she had elected to prolong her hangover for as long as possible by day-drinking wine. Now, nearly three bottles in, she couldn’t remember inviting Noah over, only that he had appeared at her front door—not that she was complaining, she rather appreciated the company. “Y’know what’s fucked up?” She said, sitting up and nudging Noah with her fuzzy-sock-clad toe. “If I ever met Morrissey, he would probably fucking hate me. Like, I love hamburgers.” She took a sip idly from her glass of wine. “Meat may be murder, but it’s fuckin’ delicious.”
@nxwashington
















