🎵 (missing-re-purrcussions)
Send me 🎵 and I’ll put my music on shuffle, making a starter from my favourite line of the first song to play
“ They say, ‘this city, she’s been dead for years now.’So death is not something, not something that scares me. ”
It was a common sight, seeing Mae Borowski balancing precariously on telephone wires and fences, walking the line between parkour and straight up flagrant disregard for one’s life, and such was the case as she hopped off of a sharp rock and stared at the lake before her, the dilapidated Food Donkey standing and blocking the horizon in this distance. Mae stared at the pebbles by the lake for a few seconds, before grabbing what looked like a disc-like stone, and skipped it across the lake.
One, two, three, four, five, sink. Five skips, the stone always sunk on the sixth. It always did.
She sat on the lakeside, not really caring if the butt of her pants got wet from the lakewater, throwing random stones into the water and watching the water splash, then the water would ripple and bob a bit before going calm once more.
Sometimes she was less on the ‘parkour’ side of the line and more on the ‘flagrant disregard for one’s life’ side. She was so tired.
