Quoted By:
Drifting lazily away down the river of dreams, you trade the warmth of Volka’s embrace and the stench of mildew and stale booze for a more familiar sensation…
The distant smell of burnt rubber and gasoline… The tepid blanket of humidity smothering you in your sweat-drenched sheets… The chirping of crickets… the whir of the desk fan you picked up at the <span class="mu-b">DOLLARMART</span> as it fights a losing battle…
You’re <span class="mu-i">home</span>.
“<span class="mu-i">-llo?</span>”
You jolt at the sudden voice and send the phone in your hand tumbling flat onto your sweat-caked forehead! Y-yea, you stammer, voice weak and scratchy from the sweltering heat, you’re here…
“<span class="mu-i">Thought I lost ya.</span>” The female voice crackles. “<span class="mu-i">Barely get any reception here…</span>” You glance at the caller ID–’<span class="mu-s">DYLAN</span>’. “<span class="mu-i">How’s it going?</span>”
Errr, it’s going… <span class="mu-i">tired</span>, you reply, not daring to glance at the time.
“<span class="mu-i">Yea, that’s… oh. OH!</span>” She replies as recognition swiftly creeps into her voice, “<span class="mu-i">I’m SO sorry, Ant! I keep forgetting about the damn time zones and-</span>”
It’s fine, you smile, you were already awake! And, you add as you wipe some sweat onto the pillow you aren’t using, it’s been a while since you caught up…
“<span class="mu-i">Yea…</span>” Dylan replies in a tone that could be interpreted in a number of ways, “<span class="mu-i">It’s been busy, y’know?</span>”
Sure, you nod, not truly knowing. Never a dull moment at <span class="mu-i">her</span> job, huh?
“<span class="mu-i">Ha ha, no siree..</span>” She laughs, before her tone becomes a bit more excited, “<span class="mu-i">But forget that… how was graduation?</span>”
It… was graduation, you shrug! They handed you a degree and everything!
“<span class="mu-i">Yea, that sounds about right… I uh… dad told me about the college search…</span>”
You don’t really want to talk about that, you sigh, wincing as a spike of pain shoots through your temples.
“<span class="mu-i">Just think of it as a… as a gap year! Travel a bit! Find yourself!</span>”
Yea, the uh… the travel fund’s a little low, you reply as the sound of distant gunshots trickle in through your open window, you’re a <span class="mu-i">RENTER</span> now, so..
“<span class="mu-i">You moved out? Why?</span>” Oh boy, here we go… You just couldn’t stick around mom and dad anymore, you groan, running your sweaty hand over your sweatier face. She knows how it is.
“<span class="mu-i">Why do you think I work out here?</span>” Dylan retorts with a hollow laugh. “<span class="mu-i">Where are you renting, then, Mr. Moneybags?</span>”
Bishop’s got an apartment, you explain, and his last roommate got arrested, so… here you are.
“<span class="mu-i">Well if you ever need a gig…</span>”
You’re not much of a scientist, you reply with a derisive snort, and besides, you have a few opportunities lined up!
“<span class="mu-i">Your loss… they’ll hire anyone here. Lots of boxes that need moving around…</span>”
Yea, well…
>CONTD.
