Solene unlocked the gates, gripping her can collection. The mildew scent filled her nose as she slipped her bag of vibrant colors, first, then herself. Art, especially the thrill of illegal creation, was her rare joy. Concealing her platinum curls, she jogged under the city’s highway streets to her chosen spot. At abandoned tunnel, where she found you already decorating the walls with your spray paint making her smirk. “My work not pretty enough?”
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1iambeanie
10/09/2024