- #WHITE DAY A LABYRINTH NAMED SCHOOL ANGRY WOMAN CRACKED#
- #WHITE DAY A LABYRINTH NAMED SCHOOL ANGRY WOMAN PRO#
During one of our college breaks, I brought her back to the city and showed her around. I loved watching her manicured fingers at work. She kept the jay loose enough to pull well but tight enough not to burn sloppy or canoe. Rye knew I didn’t roll well, but my girl rolled jays better than him and Rolls.
Rye began licking the edges and shaking the cone down. “My Gawd! You’ve never fucked a white chick.” Their huge frames looked goofy sitting on the couch together, boulders sinking into the leather, jostling each other like idiots. “Really though, why you being shy?” Dub nudged Rye. Rolls wiped his eyes and left to the kitchen. Rolls smacked his lips and looked at Rye. Rolls stood, but put his hand on the armrest to steady himself. “Stop with the Buddhist bullshit,” Dub said. “Man, G don’t count, he’s mixed, that’s a performance-enhancing drug.” Rye tagged me light on the chest. “Gio would answer.” He looked at me: “Wouldn’t you, G?” “Why won’t you answer the question?” Dub continued. I was about to ask him if he still painted. His latest was shooting an ad for the ambulance chaser Anthony Izzo. These days, he got lit every morning before work, after his bowl of Smacks. He had the leather furniture from his dad’s old office and we sank into it.
#WHITE DAY A LABYRINTH NAMED SCHOOL ANGRY WOMAN PRO#
He smoked like a pro even still, burned blunts and let it box out the room.
#WHITE DAY A LABYRINTH NAMED SCHOOL ANGRY WOMAN CRACKED#
The room was streaked with haze like we dropped cream in a coffee, but Rolls never cracked windows. “I know you never won a geography bee,” Rolls said.
I’m finna touch every continent,” Dub said. Rolls, who was too high, chimed in: “Stop it, bruh, that shit’s not important.” He could play once upon a time, but not like Rye. His parents named him to be a football star. We called him Dub because his name was Lazarus Livingston-Double L. I leaned forward from the couch and took the burning nub of joint from his outstretched hand. “What’s your number?” Dub looked at Rye real serious like he was asking about his mom’s health. The room was filled with good smoke and we drifted off behind it.
0 kommentar(er)
