#cursedline01.

[skhism]

         ‘ i don’t... knooow what that is. ’ and she sure as hell isn’t going to touch it. janitorial duties do not fall within her purview. ‘ and i wouldn’t, uh, engage with it in any way if i were you, fella. can i offer a different table? comped meal? moral support? ’

@cursedline,  sc.

[scriose]

a bad cocktail of poor hearing, an unfamiliar accent, and  ---  from what few terms he’s managed to pick out of the jumble  ---  some truly strange conversation-making have chris straining to keep up. it feels a bit like having a chat with a western that hasn’t aged well.

the metallic clink of his lighter flicking shut cuts a word in two. it had been the tie-it-all-together word; it was supposed to clear the fog over the rest of the sentence. he’s lost.

         ‘ sorry, fella. ’ his lungs are full of smoke a beat, and then, on the exhale, ‘ i didn’t catch that. ’

@cursedline,  sc.