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Cicada Days
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i can feel something inside me say
[ *  *  *  * ]
No response. Didn't Blair have... something? Irene could recall the occasional 'something' being offhandedly mentioned a paltry handful of times. Once by PM, twice by sea. But Irene didn't quite have the presence of mind to recall something that had been so distant and so callously treated by her friend. Generic well-wishes and concern bled into the continuum of space-time, the matrices of data that held the forgotten friendships of an entire generation alongside their memes and Vines. "Tickle huh?" Guess that thread of thought ended there, even for Irene's eternally spotless and thoughtless mind.

"The poem, yeah! I remember now." Irene had never actually managed to read it. Not for lack of curiosity, she'd just literally forgotten to ask the few times the subject had come up. She'd have to remember to forget to ask when she got home. "Like, Asimah does like... people. In general. If she'd ever run into you she might have flirted with you as well, Blair." Irene casually threw that thought out there, then Scarlett's question drew her attention to the shirt that she was still wrestling with one hand. She appraised the knit. To her eyes it actually didn't seem that bad, maybe a bit stretchy-snug-fit for her general style, but maybe...

"I wasn't searching for anything in particular but this Atari looks cool. Swear I've seen it before, actually." A pause as she continued to idly pounce her hands over the fabric like a cat. Buy? Don't buy? Had she even brought any money somewhere in the unconquerable depths of her stupidly oversize pants pockets? "What did you come here to get, Scarlett?"
The Dies Before First Rolls Squad

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