by Ben Brooks
We sit outside in darkness waiting patiently before burning kites and crack addicts. I am here and you are there and between us there is this thing called “mmm” which makes us both feel relaxed though the situation would likely evoke shit-yourself-ness had we not had the protection of “mmm.” A homeless man says he wants your wallet and you get scared but then I go “mmm” and you say “I’ll give you a fucking wallet” and he hisses and walks away. It’s just us now; watching the Ogliarchy serve up clean needles and broken dolls. I wonder if the sky will wrap itself around me like it did at home in Vermont, when the sun radiated “mmm” and the whiskey was colder than snow. I wonder if you will ever let me go.
6S
Ben Brooks is a young author from the south west of England.