#* eddie

[bunburie-a-blog]

@antet

     The sand is too dry up here to make a sandcastle but he’s trying. He wiggles his fingers under the surface a ways until he finds the cool parts, digs up and over. Now he has a hole.

     He can feel eyes on him. When can he not, these days? He’d be happy never seeing another grain of sand in his life. He throws a look over his shoulder at Roland and says, feeling like a child but righteous in it, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

[bunburie-a-blog]

@antet

     “Jesus fuckin wept, Roland, you’re gonna make me cry. If you get stuck I’m gonna have to call the fire department to cut you out.” He’s on one side of a turnstile and Roland is on the other, and the look on Roland’s face would be funny if — yeah, no, it’s funny whichever way you cut it.

     “Just put your ticket in the thing. The little, uh,” he gestures, “the little slit.” They’ve missed three trains and people are staring. He really wants to laugh.

[bunburie-a-blog]

@bonnmot​

     He didn’t quite catch that.

     “Several?” Eddie leans closer. “Seventeen?” He jabs a finger in his ear and twists like he’s trying to unearth a blockage. “Ceviche?”

[bunburie-a-blog]

@mediaeyed

     “Uh huh.” Right. “He’s a cowboy. And he’s hanging out in people’s dreams because...?”      In Eddie’s personal opinion, this is a case of someone watching Butch Cassidy and eating a shitton of cheese before they went to bed, which is probably a frequent enough occurrence. But Eddie’s opinion be damned, he wants to hear her explanation.

[bunburie-a-blog]

@herdsheep

     “Hey, what’s your favourite animal? I wanna say sheep.”

     “Dunno why. Just got a hunch.”