𝟱𝟳. THE CORAL BARLOWE SHIT-SHOW EXPRESS

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𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗚𝗟𝗔𝗗𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗨𝗡 dipped out beneath decaying rooftops

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𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗚𝗟𝗔𝗗𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗨𝗡 dipped out beneath decaying rooftops. The calm was eerie in a way that made Spencer realise how foreign it was for her. A day where the world wasn't viciously spinning on its axis whilst she tried to put out the flames with nothing more than wistful thinking and blissful ignorance. Being left alone in a swamp of resolutions to mend broken issues instead of trying to stop a dam of new ones flooding into the embankment of never ending conundrums. Not being able to spill her guts out to whatever Gallagher that was within earshot whilst also simultaneously being as discreet as possible.

Sweet, Sweet harmony

Eggshell paint curdled down from planks of aging platelets of wood. It didn't match the colour of her actual home. But then again, what did mismatched swatches matter when there was a vengeful threat tattooed against the side of the place she was supposed to find solace in. Spencer had taken it upon herself to start restoring everything back to normal. Lip and Ian were unavailable for obvious reasons, and she also needed a way to simply quell her impending boredom.

Contrary to belief, there was something soothing to her about watching paint dry. Applying the first coat, bristles to hardwood, standing aback and then just.....letting nature take its course after. It felt like a life allegory for masking past fodder with a fresh slate. Out with the old, and in with the partly new.

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