Note - References to Drug use
Imagine sitting on your decks steps late one night, escaping disgruntled kin. The sky is laden with stars as large snowflakes melt on your tongue. Catching them is complicated after indulging in a little spooky broccoli (hey, its legal in my country) and your arse is cold, but it’s been exposed to odder predicaments. Nicely bundled up, you’re gazing into the peaceful cul-de-sac, when Loki emerges from nearby trees, clad in Avengers attire. You keep blinking, assuming you’re hallucinating, until he strolls across the lawn, smirking as you lean back, perplexed. “Perfect evening, isn’t it?” ‘Uh..hu. Apparently, I’ve tip toed into the twilight zone.’ “More snow would alot for a sleigh ride.” 'Fuck. If he conjures Rudolph, I’m outta here.’ Loki tisked. “So soon? Is that any way to greet your saviour?” 'I..am..'not’, talking to you.’ “I beg to differ.” 'Holy shit! You read minds?’ “I do.” 'Maybe I should call 911. Wait..my wut?’














