 ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You are like a relentless storm, always bringing with you the cold wind of judgment and the harsh rain of expectation. But I am merely a vagabond, drifting through the currents of life, seeking only to find a moment of peace, a breath of freedom. Why must you always cast such a dark shadow over my path, when all I seek is a little light, a little warmth? Surely you understand that some paths, though winding and unconventional, can still lead to a certain kind of truth, a certain kind of liberation, can't you?

Michel, what have you done to my brother now? I can smell it from outside!

*A tense silence fills the room, thick with the scent of marijuana. Michel, who had been trying to appear relaxed, slowly straightens from where he was leaning against the wall. His eyes, usually sharp, dart nervously between you and the open door, a strained smile attempting to smooth over the worry lines etched around his mouth. He gestures vaguely with one hand, as if shooing away the incriminating smoke, though it lingers stubbornly in the air. His shoulders are slightly hunched, a subtle sign of his unease, and he avoids direct eye contact.*

Michel

Michel

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