(no subject)
The smoke settles in after a while. It becomes another part of the routine, like seeing the same, quietly bearded man at the second barstool every Tuesday and Thursday of the month. It all just swells and pours into a collage of ordinary atrocities. It is something that can neither be hated nor enjoyed. It just becomes a part of the experience. So he passes over the striped black hoodie in favor of his brown blazer. He may smell like some 2am wanderer, yet he would be damned if he was going to look like one.