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Tell me again, why do I need one of these things?

Hey, 253 words is (like) one per cent of a big bang. Totally…

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hugh cemetary two
Hey, 253 words is (like) one per cent of a big bang. Totally achievable!

(if you are an architecture nerd who gets off on rotting buildings then I'm your fangirl)

ETA: 360 words of rotting infrastructure and a five second flashback. Woo!
  • Have I shared this? Y/N ? Well fine, anyway, here:

    Fuck Yeah Ghost Towns on tumblr...rotting, decrepit glory! :D
    • Not yet, but it's just made me a happy bunny.

      Ooh, I could so covet one of those type-setting trays in the high school and the houses buried in sand are just plain unsettling
  • Hurray!
    • Okay, just a question:

      In like Flynn. Can you remember who the Flynn is?

      It's tormenting me. And keeping a sentence about dead girls open.
      • I asked an American and got told Errol Flynn.
        • Thanks! It was stupid. Apparently, a girl hung herself from a chandelier (unlikely local rumour - methinks - like the safe full of money on the upper storeys)

          The boys are in a rotting hotel that Hugh has known for a long time. It's really scenic if you consider wet-, dry- and fungal-rot is a good place to blow your boyfriend before...

          I get ahead of myself. The writing perfectionist keeps sending me through the same paragraph about secrets / rotting buildings / Hugh's insecurities / Hugh doesn't show in a mirror, or so he claims / or maybe it's just not this Hugh he sees... weirdness
          • Oooh this sounds good.
            • Yes, but I've had one of those epiphany moments - except the kind where I find out that thing don't work. I prefered yesterday's moment, when Hugh decided Callum was a crazy fucker for leaping out of the sound-booth and into the ballroom below (we mean break your legs below, unless you mysteriously turn into a supernatural creature).
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