#twdwopen

[andrazelenko-blog]

keep things quiet

Miron’s is always sleepy in the mornings; the regulars are seniors who insist on dragging their bodies out of bed at 8 am to meet at Zanuda’s local diner for their morning coffee. Here, any supposed “lunch rush” doesn’t begin until well into the afternoon, so late there wouldn’t even be a point in the place opening as soon as it does were it not for the elderly early risers.

Ea can’t imagine ever looking forward to having the same conversations as the day before. (Every. Single. Day.) Hopefully it isn’t a requisite for growing old. Then again, she might not have to wait for the experience. Isn’t that what her life is already like?

But it seems today someone insists on saving her from more of the same, breezing in to seat themselves at a secluded end away from all the talk up front. She ambles over lazily, as though coming to rest her hip against the table is just one stop along the way, and not her exact destination.

“What’s your story?” She cocks her head. “Hungover? Hiding from somebody? Nobody younger than fifty ever comes in this place alone.”

[sirkos-blog1]

ᵈᵘᶳᵗ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᶤᶰᵈ || Prince +

Each night began the same. The walk back from the mines was a tiring one, despite the fact that he often managed to get a ride for at least part of the way. Soot marred his features. No longer was he Alexei; he was only another miner. He was without identity, until he managed to rid himself of the grime-- but he would never manage to get it off of himself. His body was forever stained by the filth that the coal dust left on him, and no matter how many showers he took, it would remain in his lungs.

Those thoughts weighed heavily on his mind, body, and soul as he entered Zanuda, blackened fingers rising to brush a few stray locks out of his eyes. When had that happened? Time passed so quickly here. A face came into view in his peripherals, familiar in nature, though he could not tell if they were friend or foe. Choosing to believe the former, he cast them half a wave, his next words nothing but amiable, what with the joking tone he took.

“Isn’t it a bit late for you to be out? The rest of Zanuda is sound asleep, you know.”

[verakomchova-blog]

Dragging her palms down the bark of a nearby tree to get the blood off her palms, Vera blew a piece of hair from her vision and wiped her mouth with the back of  her jacket. It was a tattered thing, torn here and there with ambiguous stains flowering the fabric. It made her look like trash, and it got her disapproving looks from young mothers with little girls in their arms, but it made her feel like herself. When a person appeared in her peripheral, she grinned with all her teeth and lifted her arms up for a glamorous show of jazz hands. 

“You should see the other guy.”