three hundred fifty-three. [Hydrofield runs through my neighbourhood.]

[elskegaderian]

The summer night is still and quiet all around them and above their heads the power-lines hum. The solitude envelops in the illusion of safety; headlights glow distantly on the highway. They’re not far from the university, just miles away from their suburban homes. If they can’t catch a ride to town it’ll take them hours to walk, he thinks. Maybe that’s what makes him nervous. Maybe it’s just the crackle of electricity in the air.

Twyla snuggles up against his chest, tosses her head back to look up at the sky.

[Through the smog, you can almost see the stars.]