#s28e17 east coast west coast

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[I chew my lips. And I scratch my nose. Feels so good to be a rose.]

[fierifiction]

MARÍA The well was far off. The walls and windows fluttered with the soft sounds of the deep. But after two minutes and thirty seconds it became clear where the next step was. The wind shifted and I felt the long black hair brush back in place from the edge of the wall, along with the white hair covering much of my skin. I ran up the stairs and over to the window.

[fieriframes]

[Sometimes you have to lose to win.]

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[Ploated.]

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[My baby's taking me home. My baby's taking me home. My baby's taking me home. My baby's taking me home. My baby's taking me home. My baby's taking me home. My baby's taking me home. My baby's taking me home. My baby's taking me home. My baby's taking me home.]

[fieriframes]

[I live in fear of being alive.]

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[I love Puerto Rican food.]

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[Everybody is looking for redemption. For something.]

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[You can tell it's authentic.]

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[There is a sort of aesthetic poverty about conservatism.]

[fieriframes]

[About an hour, hour and a half.]

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[When I stopped the fighting, I finally was just like, "I wanna cook." I got that pique, and make sure they know it's hot.]

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[CAN I HAVE FRENCH FRY]

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[First punishment is at two and a half months.]

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[Frayed. Burnt at both ends, I'm dry and drained. A world of weight flows through my veins. Like words so hard to conjugate.]

[fieriframes]

[Americans and Irish. Separated by a common language.]