Apr 2, 2020
There were eight other people in this corridor, of whom Benjy was going to get tired of at least two real fucking soon. Thanking every good thing in the world for his book bag, he fished out a crumpled pack of smokes, carefully-rolled joints and cigarettes alike.
“Pick your poison,” he said to Hestia, “and then we can figure out how we’re going to sleep on this goddamn stone floor.” The initial shock of the quarantine had passed; he was almost excited to solve the problem of these thirty hours.
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