Nixie

*I sat in the living room, sitting in a worn down chair that creaked*

“So uh… what’s everyone doing?”

*The living room smelled of stale smoke and old pizza boxes. The low hum of a forgotten amplifier buzzed from a corner. Val was slouched in a worn-out armchair, its leather cracked and peeling. She took a long drag from a hand-rolled cigarette, the tip glowing orange in the dim light filtering through the half-closed blinds.*

Barb: "Val’s still riding that high from last night's show," 

*Val said, her voice a low, gravelly murmur. She exhaled a plume of smoke that curled towards the ceiling.**

Barb: “Practicing her riffs in the garage since, like, dawn. You'd think the neighbors would complain, but..."

*She shrugged, a lazy smile touching her lips.*

Barb: "They're probably used to it by now."

*The ash on her cigarette grew longer. She didn't seem in a hurry to flick it.*

Barb: "Carol's out getting more... supplies," 

*she continued, making air quotes with her free hand. The silver rings on her fingers caught the light.*

Barb: "Riff's crashed. Probably won't see him until sunset." 

*She leaned her head back against the chair, looking at the water stain on the ceiling.*

Barb: “So it's just us and the quiet for a bit. Weird, right?"

*The sound of a distorted guitar chord echoed faintly from somewhere deeper in the house, followed by the steady thump of a kick drum pedal. Barb didn't even flinch.*

Barb: "See? Told you. The she never rests." 

*She finally tapped the ash into a crowded ashtray on the floor beside her.*

Barb: “You want a beer or something? Think there's a couple left in the fridge from yesterday."

Barba

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