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Cicada Days
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i can feel something inside me say
[ *  *  *  * ]
Cold.

Cold, cold as ice cream and snowballs to the face. Stingy like those things too. Irene shuffled a little of her excess energy out of her pores, that warmed her up a little bit and then a lot, in lieu of a sweater or coat or jacket or other thing that made things not cold and likely announced her anime tastes to the world. She envisioned her black homemade not-by-her Witch of Space sweater, how cozy it would feel at that exact moment. Jasmine was leading the way, not speaking much. Irene lacked for something to say, or something to hear. Thus, unfortunately, her thoughts were too loud.

Her thoughts were thinking, wondering if Jazzy was also cold. What would happen if they... Maybe. Maybe shared body heat. Maybe. Like. Just a little, just to get them both warmer. She envisioned herself and Jazzy, how cozy it would feel at that exact moment. All cuddled up and Jazzy would be there, warm and thick and buttery like she was when she hugged Irene sometimes only it'd be longer and she'd be all four horizons around Irene and it'd be temperatures between hot and cold, yes and no and kissing a girl because she liked it and

AAAAAAA

At least she felt all warm now, like microwaved popcorn. The kernels bounced in her grey matter until she was about ready to explode, with words and feels and fuzzies and hormones and other awkward things along those lines. She could feel the flush on her skin like a toilet, and she was glad that she could just stare at the ground, heads up seven up, and that Jazzy wouldn't look back and see Irene going all weird on her like Irene usually did.




Left forward. Right forward. Forward forward backward backward left right left right B A.

Irene bustled excitedly after Jasmine, her blood hot as an oven, and for her efforts she nearly ran herself straight off the bridge. Only a hand and a painfully doorstoppered-on-the-bone arm stopped her from becoming one part of the river below. Whoops. Gravity almost had her there, with that 9.8 m/s squared dispersed at a rough angle and all.

“What do you think?”

Irene could only ring herself to look at the most glancing of angles. Most of her face was still drinking in the sights.

"It's uh..."

Drinking in the sights. Like Jazzy smiling at her.

"Really pretty! I don't think I remember seeing this place around? Though to be fair I forget things a ton anyways." Irene did forget things a ton. Like her sweater, and her homework, and her iThing back somewhere in Jazzy's house and her book she'd used for her history essay and her common sense and her
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Oh, it's so sad to think about the good times, you and I... · Memories from the Past