CLOSED: to @mdhvre for event 02 LOCATION: the White Rabbit DATE & TIME: 9/17 @ 12:52AM
A home has history—it is erected on a foundation, built out of sourced materials, its insides decorated with heirlooms. Even gutted, renovated, wearing a new face, there is an underneath, a necessary before. Nothing is a blank slate, tabula rasa. This place, like all things is no different, the man before you, no different though he appears to her as nearly that.
A placid facade, a single wall seen through an open window. Ashley is like that—opaque, a fog that settles around you, cool and comfortable.
She can’t help but wonder as she steps through the threshold tonight with hardly a quick knock. She is bandaged in places, all patchwork, the skin underneath healing around the remains of the fire that sleep beneath her skin. They will become but a few of the marks that grace her skin, near-misses, a dormant, sleeping memory.
Towards the back, Clementine spots him like a part of the shop itself, and walks towards him, pulling her jacket off and carrying it in her arms, “It’s quiet so no Theo tonight, huh?” Something uncharacteristic about the place; frame uneven on the wall, chairs askew. She can’t quite place it; it is barely her home, not even in name. “What’re you working on?”
