paint, mostly. the chemical reek that promises emphezema and cancer and a weird plasticky smell clinging to the back of your nose for days. one of the little pod windows took the brunt of the impact, and the glass that remained is black pieces in the grass now, would-be invisible were it not for the glittering reflection of fire, sprayed out across the velvety-dark field now. a sanguine nebula, like the mouth of hell is a terrestrial swirl of stars.
kavinsky has two more molotov cocktails, one apiece. crash. boom! he says it out loud:] BOOM. [he seems happy. he's not, wasn't even before he got murdered, but it's good enough; he hadn't been happy in henrietta, either. but ronan had been there too, all knuckle scabs and adrenalized laughter, for a little awhile before he moved on.
if you can't kill yourself, at least you can kill time.
afterward, they're sitting on top of the popcorn stand, legs dangling over the bold sans-serif signage. the ferris wheel burns merrily dozens of yards away. booze and candy come out in handfuls from kavinsky's bag, popcorn spilling across the flimsy cardboard construction that's holding up under their ass. it hadn't felt like it would support them, but kavinsky hadn't been worried. falling doesn't scare him much anymore.]
Catch, baby, [he says. he tosses a pale kernel of popcorn at ronan's face.]
tw suicidal ideation
[the ferris wheel begins to burn.
paint, mostly. the chemical reek that promises emphezema and cancer and a weird plasticky smell clinging to the back of your nose for days. one of the little pod windows took the brunt of the impact, and the glass that remained is black pieces in the grass now, would-be invisible were it not for the glittering reflection of fire, sprayed out across the velvety-dark field now. a sanguine nebula, like the mouth of hell is a terrestrial swirl of stars.
kavinsky has two more molotov cocktails, one apiece. crash. boom! he says it out loud:] BOOM. [he seems happy. he's not, wasn't even before he got murdered, but it's good enough; he hadn't been happy in henrietta, either. but ronan had been there too, all knuckle scabs and adrenalized laughter, for a little awhile before he moved on.
if you can't kill yourself, at least you can kill time.
afterward, they're sitting on top of the popcorn stand, legs dangling over the bold sans-serif signage. the ferris wheel burns merrily dozens of yards away. booze and candy come out in handfuls from kavinsky's bag, popcorn spilling across the flimsy cardboard construction that's holding up under their ass. it hadn't felt like it would support them, but kavinsky hadn't been worried. falling doesn't scare him much anymore.]
Catch, baby, [he says. he tosses a pale kernel of popcorn at ronan's face.]