crawl
i have covered myself in city filth. i have forced its wet smell under my nails, just to dig a hole for you. a place to rest in the warm crumbly muffin dirt, so far down that the streets sound like distant rain, so far into the dark that you can smell ocean water. i will not let you live but there is no reason to suffer.
(a very wealthy-looking forty-something woman stands from her first-class seat, grips her carry-on like a rein, frowns severely. she picks up the staticky airplane pillow, fluffs it, straightens the paper case, and sets it back on the seat at an attractive angle. looks away, still frowning)
(a very wealthy-looking forty-something woman stands from her first-class seat, grips her carry-on like a rein, frowns severely. she picks up the staticky airplane pillow, fluffs it, straightens the paper case, and sets it back on the seat at an attractive angle. looks away, still frowning)