as the walls come down.
#3
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I was alone, I took a ride

I didn't know what I would find there


WC: 363. Slight powerplay. When should we date this? Also, I'm sorry that this literally took forever. (Please note that Grace's family is using the term "petrol" as a shortened form of "petroleum," which Grace's father would have read about, due to his engineering savvy.)


Another road where maybe I

Could find another kind of mind there


Grace, as a rule, was difficult to shake. She found few things creepy, rather opting for finding them curious or interesting. Everything was a new experience, and she was open-minded to a fault. Why ought she to judge? It didn't help anything, and many folks were easy to judge simply because everyone judged them. The existance of at least one person who wished to know and understand them was a comfort, and helped turn them around, even just a little. So Grace treated all as if they were that one, lest she miss an opportunity to improve the state of the world, one sad and lonely pup at a time. Everyone deserved eudemonia.


Turquoise eyes looked first through the other female, then focused on her proper. A smile eased across her face, and Taj cawed somewhat cheerfully, albeit seemingly dazed by a contact high. Vaguely, Grace noted that, indeed, Taj could get high - she hadn't been sure of whether her friend would be affected by the green herb, but clearly, he felt something. She held the pipe out to the black and white female, her eyes still slightly unfocused. "You'll like it a lot more if you try this. Hit it, I think it's still lit..." Grace's pipe didn't go out easily; sometimes, she actually had to tamp it out with a stick. Just as well; she had more flammable liquid - what had her father called it? petrol? - but she didn't like to waste it. She didn't know where to get more.


Taking the pipe back, she hit it again, and blew the smoke up toward her corvid friend. "Oh, where are my manners! I'm Grace, and this is Taj." She looked up at the black form, which rustled slightly, then spoke in a small, gravelly voice. "Friend, not food!" Grace burst into laughter, nodding emphatically, and nearly shaking the half-stoned bird from his perch. "Yes, yes! Taj is a friend, not food. Oh! Sorry, man. Hold on tight.." she exclaimed, still laughing, and earning herself a chastising (yet playful) peck to the head. She frowned dramatically, folding her arms over her chest and harrumphing in faux exasperation. Oh, life.


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