“Could’ve fucking told me,” I hissed. I wasn’t sure if she could hear me over the pounding music, but if anyone could fill in the blanks in what I’d said, it would be her.
How?
More people were pushing product and stolen goods at the edges of the mall, some pimped others or prostituted themselves, while yet others were scrounging through the stores and then offering their finds for cash or barter.
Are we moving on from the in-depth descriptions of the casual debauchery around here? I hope so.
The roof at the center of the mall had collapsed and what remained was shored up, but there was a gaping hole that was open to the darkening sky. Beneath that hole, the party was already underway.
Honestly, this place barely qualifies as a party by any reasonable standards. It’s more like… a barrel full of surströmming, lutefisk, drugs and semen, being blasted with terrible music and bad energy from all directions.
But at least the fish seem to be enjoying it despite the simile sort of implying they’re all dead, so I guess maybe that counts.
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