stranger

no trigger warnings

word count: 168

notes: it's weird but one of my favorite things I've written so far. hope you enjoy :)

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don't your legs get tired, silly boy? a voice of a cigarette smoke floated gently out of the shadowed alley, edges lilting and dancing roughly. whatever had said it was smiling.

only when I stop he replied, as if this statement was fact with all the bitter wisdom of desperately clung to naivete. there was a smile there, too, perhaps.

oh, a funny one. or do you fancy yourself wise?  it cooed, a knife across the bricks of the alley. shadow seemed to slither under the flickering yellow streetlights.

who's to say? maybe neither he sighed through lips dry like the California heat he had left behind just a millinea ago.

I suggest you rest. your legs will give out soon this time the words were accompanied with a whopping wheeze and trembling consonants. the speaker was growing tired.

that's the goal he smirked and knew he had lost, like he lost so long ago.

enjoy your journey, then.
it was gone before he could say
I will.

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notes: the conversation was supposed to be ambiguously psychic, hence why it's all in italics. comments? random vendettas? requests?

thanks for reading luvs 💙

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