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Joined December 2025
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INT. BREAKWATER INN——NIGHT——RAINING. it doesn't usually rain like this. it's his nth lie of the night，and even tom's jaw has grown tired of this mayoral pantomime，this unbecoming mother tongue of pathological lying that got him into office like an intra-cytoplasmic sperm...
𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘪 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵? ⠀ ⠀arm slingshotted 'cross @widowersbay's back, ⠀ ⠀ anchored beneath pits. ⠀ ⠀ cigarette suspended in-hand a cased bullet. ⠀ ⠀ sight lines pinned adam's apple.
a staunch local had called mariana a siren once，stemming from folklore he'd spent an entire childhood attempting to purge; he'd decided to recycle the word '𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑜𝑔𝑦𝑛𝑦' despite his lack of confidence in the notion.
dissolve to an earlier calendar date: 'this town's ridiculous fearmongering... ℎ𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑙𝑦，have you been drinking again?' he recalls the swell of panic in his chest，a mirror held up，devoted to contradictions——the fear of being disproven in the steadfast pragmatism that...
yeah… for the broken power lines. (tom winces. those downtrodden eyes fail to convey anything explicit about his growing distaste for the patriarch. his finger picks the crooked teeth of the zipper，and it whistles all the way down.) do you really think——𝑐'𝑚𝑜𝑛…
we hope you enjoyed the three-hour ferry to new england's 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡-𝑘𝑒𝑝𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑡! ignore the warnings about the fog. everything's 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞.
