#dwellin

Four floors up and one couldn’t even see down to the third, as the fog was that thick tonight. He had found himself in a new den, rather dissatisfied with who he had come across. Jerkles, a man of about five feet and a half, with the stature of a stocky lizard, was the dealer. He had found a way to harvest a similar strand to the ever so popular ‘Flower’. This one, called ‘Spicey 2.0’ wasn’t too special, besides the fact it was cheaper and easier to find (for some reason this man had decided to give it away like candy). The way Dwellin’ was feeling on it was hyper-aware about the too much moisture, and how cold the metal railing he leaned against felt, which, also made his hands clammy from gripping it. It made the rugged brunette remember back when he first got into the motion of checking out other dealers’ stuff. He had a sense of entitlement, really, and felt as if he was always better than even the bad-asses of the bunch.