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Description
filters were fucked up, but i drew like a desperate gunslinger.
a plastic bottle of cider lay murdered in the mud. i considered.

an elderly man with rain-spotted glasses cycled past primly.
his fluorescent jacket made me squint. he smelled like cornflakes.

disgusting habit, his voice murmured in my head, then
was gone, dissipating into nonexistence with the silky smoke curls.

i turned, stifling a cough. the leaves mumbled in their sleep. i watched
sheep that didn't exist, grazing inconspicuously. a robin stared at me.