Mar 5, 2017
IT’S A LATE FRIDAY EVENING, and there’s a boy entering the diner -- no, a man, early-20s and covered in tattoos of the likes he’s never seen before. all too familiar with inken scrawlings, he assumes its gang related -- assumes this conversation will stockpile into amiability in some alternate universe where night-owls get along.
but here, they’re drifting in earth 1.0. here, he makes no such promises.
❛ –if you’re passing through, there are worse places to stop. the burgers here are really something else. ❜ // * @humanityrot
