raar-says-i

Comprehension by Tori Paige "I understand." "That's exactly it. You understand." He was seated on the edge of his bed, hunched over like some sort of derelict, attempting to hide himself, eyes to the floor. I was in a metal folding chair—I carried it everywhere at the time, as seating in my friend's houses was unlikely to be found beyond the floor (most likely covered in filth) or their beds (highly suggestive with the boys, awkward with the girls, not sure why to the latter). My chair and I, as a duo, were placed directly in front of him. I imitated his hunch, only with my neck craned downwards and my eyes craned upwards, in a contrary po