#flaxsturbation

not going back would be rude, or so billie keeps telling herself. she’s only here again because she’s just meeting the minimum requirements for human decency and her second visit to dunkin’ donuts in two days has absolutely nothing specifically to do with the american hero who saved her from the most florescent orange puke she’d ever seen in her life (what had that kid been eating? no wonder his entire body thought it’d be better on her beige, silk blouse). 

and, she reminds herself one more time as she pushes the door open causing the bell to ring, it has nothing to to with how funny the shirt was, how it smelled like laundry detergent, sugar and the soot of the subway, and how compelling that sad, guarded look in it’s owner’s eyes was. 

it’s obviously not donut time in new york because the place is basically empty apart from the very person she’s looking for. in order to return the freshly laundered t-shirt, of course. 

“hi!” she smiles, pleased to see annie (yes, she read her name tag because, weirdly enough, in the commotion of being vomited on and ushered to the staff bathroom there hadn’t been time for formal introductions) behind the counter. “i’m glad to catch you again, i have your shirt - thought you might need it back as soon as possible. it is good advice --- you don’t want to forget it.” she places the very neatly folded shirt (not that you can tell because billie’s also wrapped the shirt in blue paper with little suns dotted across it, as if it were a gift... which does feel weird now that she’s here) on the counter.

         “You gotta be ready for when the orgy breaks out.”

y i k e s

uplifting portrayals of mental illness that help people to cope and heal and understand: exist

thought provoking commentaries on how society as a whole views mental illness: exist