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nineweaving writes.
Walking home along the canal, I saw a fire burning in the pit under the pylon near Kvichek Marine and that concrete plant. And strings of white lights? Candles, they are, a circle of about a hundred candles around the berm-ring, and two on the two standing stones that make the gate. The dark shapes of a few people sitting together, one standing. Punk hair, and a jawless skull on the back of a jacket. They were passing a beer around, wondering where the fuck Jake was. I wanted to say something fanboyish about their holiday celebration, so I didn't.
Walking home along the canal, I saw a fire burning in the pit under the pylon near Kvichek Marine and that concrete plant. And strings of white lights? Candles, they are, a circle of about a hundred candles around the berm-ring, and two on the two standing stones that make the gate. The dark shapes of a few people sitting together, one standing. Punk hair, and a jawless skull on the back of a jacket. They were passing a beer around, wondering where the fuck Jake was. I wanted to say something fanboyish about their holiday celebration, so I didn't.