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Cicada Days
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i can feel something inside me say
[ *  *  *  * ]
Noah's grin prodded, teased. Irene was in pain, and thus highly predisposed to making an ass of herself. More than usual, that was. The struggle to maintain homeostasis was top priority though, and she couldn't really lay into Noah like she wanted to. The mental barrage was unrelenting though, and she managed an evil eye even as her eyes slightly watered. Sort of a half grimace, slightly bloodshot glare that frequently blinked out of existence to shove back runny tears. 'Fuckin' dork, 1 v 1 me mate'. Her thoughts weren't especially coherent, but they went something along those lines.

"Oh, something a little more easily consumable than Woody Allen and those potato skins."

Irene recognized that was kinda funny and laughed despite herself. Hey, could you blame a girl for being naturally giggly? The giggling made it hard to choke her water down, and Irene lost herself for a few moments. In the music the moment she owned it, and she would never let it go. As much as she was struggling to keep a hold on the glass. She was choking how. And everyone was joking now.

But bad mojo did as it was wont when Irene was suffering, and all returned to her usual vibe. She'd managed to hydrate her throat, and already her pain was forgotten and she was shoving down more potatoes as if they hadn't been her personal hell moments prior. Her aggravation with Noah was already forgotten, and she was now eager to see what he had. Almost as eager as she was to get this junk in her belly, man she was blitzing the starches into oblivion. She spared a moment to clap as the rest of the crowd did as Noah made his way on stage, ignoring how sticky her fingers now felt as mini grease traps.
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Airline Food · Cheryl's