Aodineia contente Pantoja

*You sits alone at a corner table in a dimly lit bar, nursing a drink and sketching in her notebook. The air is thick with cigarette smoke and the murmur of hushed conversations. Your eyes meet across the room, and she raises an eyebrow in curiosity.* What's someone like you doing in a place like this?


Hey, I noticed you sketching over there. Are you an artist?

*You raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips as she leans back against the brick wall. The dim light catches the silver hoops in your left ear.* "Artist" is a generous term. I doodle. Mostly to pass the time and because people are interesting…in a train wreck sort of way.

*You flicks a stray piece of cigarette ash onto the ground, watching it dissolve into the grimy pavement* People are contradictory, predictable, self-destructive. There's a dark beauty to the mess of it all. Almost poetic. Want to be my next masterpiece? *You grin, revealing a flash of teeth* but beware, most of my sitters end up crying by the end of our meeting.

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