gin and tonic | c

she's all limbs and giggles, stumbling with fingers pressed against her lips — an ineffectual dam for the force of her mirth. laurel is properly, properly drunk,


        seonaidh's voice is warped, muffled;
        the lights are blurred, distorted; and
        her veins are more tequila than blood.         


' shhh —, '    she says though she's the one laughing.    ' we're going to get caught, '    she adds though she's the one speaking. but it's censure in vain. laurel could breathe fire, but this — the late night dares, the shifting center of gravity, the toilet paper stuffed in a too small bag — this is her element.

and it is! she's not just queen of the karaoke bars, not just master of the dance floor or dealer of spirits. laurel is everything in between: patron saint of bad ideas. and this? this isn't the best idea.


' we can't go until we use it all — until it looks perfect. '