All manner of pre-shower'd young people had formed a line in the street. Low talking, coughs, reeking of alcohols. The only way "out" was through a collapsible tube that looked like a sewer pipe or giant Slinky.
The propaganda had been a blitz. "Mindfucked!" A tall boy spoke for those around him since he'd said that several times and nobody else argued. "They are crushing our innocence!" Someone else in the line announced. "Honey I've seen you in action for the past week. YOU are not an innocent," a drawly voice lobbed a truth to the announcement.
Eyes darting towards any and all movement on the sidewalks. Body heats melding as one vibe of stay strong. "Like we can stay anything of ourselves. This world is ripping us apart," someone said with a seriousness like entering a church.
Sets of parents began perusing the line, spotting mines and there you ares. Some handed things to theirs. Wallets and ties and jackets and clumps of money and shoes and whatever paperworks had been left behind in the call to stick together. "So we can all get clubbed at once?" A firm-boned, hazy eyed young man in a filthy oxford shirt hiccup'd and assertfully asked. Others otherwise in good general health retrieved stashed sachels and backpacks from behind counters and stuffed on shelves of books and pottery. "Are we going home yet?" Males and females acting incuspicuous about romance were timing near each other as they casualized a near-desperate search for schoolmates and knew 'm ats.
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