Thursday, September 19, 2013

St Lukes food hall Anouska, Arlo, Kahma and Lucy

The sound of a waitress sneering orders to the chef while passing by. A thick black cloud emerged and busted through my nose and wafted like a bad smell. Salty, crispy chips mushed in my mouth and slithered down my throat burning me. Rusty coins rubbed against my leg which made me give a little yelp. I could spy people bustling their way to to their greasy tables with their trays filled with fast food.


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