moohgough

She fingers her fork idly, sitting between the tired girlfriend and the nervous girl who ate quickly. Across the table are the concerned boyfriend with his gray-green eyes, the reliable girl, the energetic girl, and the blonde girlfriend. The blond boyfriend, the one with the clever shirts, isn’t here right now. The energetic girl exclaims over the quality of the cider. Meat, thinks our friend with the fork. Meat and dirt. She’s not really engaged with these people right now; instead, she’s thinking about all of the atoms buzzing in their lattices and the blood cells rushing through their veins and their arteries bringing oxy