Feb 17, 2014
how many times must he endure such a thing;
the passing of one so vulgar, an itch in the perfect network of sense and thought, the heavy breadth of annoyance laid over his shoulders.
it is simple, the act of walking past one another in the tight space of the halls of a city so grandiose, even with one blue spirited spitfire. but it is the edge of a trailing coattail that gently graces the figure now behind him, that forces footwear skidding across the sleek floor.
he pauses.
it is disgusting, the sensation of four's coat having touched, even so slightly, six.
