Oct. 7th, 2014

It had been over two months, but finally Dylan had been released from hospital. It was little wonder he had been in for so long, since he had been hit by a car, and his injuries had been terribly severe. Lydia had been there for her boyfriend as much as she could, though it had been more difficult once school had gone back. She missed seeing him in the hallways of London College so much. They had been nearly inseparable for over five years. Being without him had been like missing a limb.

Or a lung.

Love is a funny thing )
Mariposa was the exact opposite of a Carly kind of place, with its vegans (no sugar, no milk, fair trade ethically farmed tea? Who were these people) and students talking in corners about Marxism and socialism and the allegory of the cave (which last week had been just a bunch of words, but now Carly had even explained it to someone else in another group of dreadlocked hippies and got to feel surprisingly clever. Who even needs university?) Mariposa even had poetry readings which was, without a doubt, the gayest thing Carly had ever heard. ("I love poetry," Lanie had said in delight and Carly rolled her eyes: "that's because you're the gayest too.")

But the waitressing wasn't too hard )

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Darker London

October 2014

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