I DONT REMEMBER WRITING THIS EITHER WHAT
"i hope you bastards realise i splashed out on this," zoe huffed as she dramatically unzips her backpack, "like, this was most of my pocket money."
"that's hardly impressive, babe," alana laughed, "your parents give you guys, like, a hundred pounds a week. might as well live with the queen."
"we may be rich, but we're not conservative," connor defended. "but what did you spend hard-earned your money on, zo?"
"i bought five freddos for fucking one-pound-twenty-five." zoe spat. "how disgusting is that!"
"gotta love capitalism," jared muttered.
"christ on a bike, you did splash out," evan marvelled.
"that's brexit for you," alana smirked, earning eye rolls and connor groaning, "take a shot every time she says that."
"who's she, the cat's mother?" she said.
"alana, i'm actually going to evict you from this–"
"–swamp–"
"no, table."
YOU ARE READING
where's my mind / poetry, oneshots etc.
Poetrywriting like i'm running out of time; like i need it to survive.
