#kiingstein

[epinephrine-artist]

kiingstein

Was it wrong that the guy at the supermarket kept finding his way into her mind? She’d even figured on her next pay day she would take the hit and get a cheap phone, one only good enough for calls and texts, but at least it was something. But to pay off the phone, she had to practically devote her life to the store, no days off for a while - only evenings. 

But when a familiar face appeared in the store, Isabel found herself perking up, smiling slightly at the tall teen. She kept herself busy while he looked around, wondering if she had been in his mind at all. Probably not since it seemed he tried his luck with any bit of skirt. 

“Did you find everything you were looking for?” Isabel asked once he had walked up to the til, her lips curling into a small grin. 

[totallyjaegered-blog]

   The boy stood on the dimly lit yard, squinting down through the glare of his phone. He looked back up at the window, and then down at the phone again before pocketing the device and bending down, sweeping his hands across the grass in slow, arcing motions. His expression, if one could make it out, was one of great concentration. His lips were pursed and his breathing slow and laboured. Quite suddenly, his eyes seemed to light up and the boy stumbled to his feet, rocking back precariously and then swinging his arm, pelting a rock against the window. Then he steadied for a while, holding onto a tree to keep himself upright while he stared intensely at the window, waiting. With his sense of time distorted, what seemed like five minutes passed. 

  “JeEAN!” He called out in a whispered shout, taking a few doe-legged steps forwards, greatly affected by an inebriation brought on by his father’s alcohol supply. He dropped down onto the floor again, muddying his jeans and fishing about for another stone to hurl at the window.