{M} - tem[p]les made out of paper.

Barrett · 05-26-2011, 12:15 AM

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WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

It was like something had gone wrong with everything. The roof had sprung a leak and the gutters were clogged; there was a tear in one wall of the greenhouse (which had done nothing to prevent the plants inside from dehydrating and turning to dust, of course). The dolly--which should have never been left outside in the first place--had rusted. In the yard ragweed and dandelions were competing with the crop. The yearling was well equipped to deal with most of it, but it was still a little overwhelming on his first pass assessment. Luckily all of the tools and extra supplies stored in the garage were intact, even if the whole thing smelt a little like a wet dog in a damp basement.

Armed with some extra materials he'd scavenged from a supply outlet on the way in from Inferni, he decided to go knock out round two of repairs. He'd spent maybe a week addressing some of the more critical issues upon his return to Nova Scotia: the roof had been mended and the gutters cleared. He was pleased that his repair had held up; despite a passing spring shower earlier, the garage was dry. It still smelt kind of musky, though, so his first order of business was to hoist open the two big doors so it could air out.

His second was to roll up something nice (well, that was being generous) from the buds he'd left to cure. They'd been plucked from the plants outside, which, left to their own devices, had begun to seed and select for things other than potency. Nevertheless, working through a mild buzz and a cloud of smoke would feel a lot less tedious. With the lit joint still hanging loosely from his mouth, he went to go wrastle the dolly away from the weeds.

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