TIME: 3:38 AM

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The strong oder of paint works you up. The scent jolting you awake like a zap of electricity. Rising form your bed, the white sheets following you like a graceful ghost with a vail. You pealed the sleek fabric off your flesh, stretching your arms in a gentle curve.

You walked outside, your footsteps quiet as the breeze. Peaking from each corner— aware. The smell of spray paint expanded. Tears pricking at your eyes. Shaking your head vigorously and wiping your eyes with the palm of your hands.

Then you saw her

Not a hobo

Not a weirdo

Not a drug dealer

A skater.

A cool skater.

She had a red TV-head with a pink screen and skin, baggy black jeans with red knee pads, a black hat and a red sleeveless hoodie. And of course— a mischievous expression flickered on her TV screen. A faint glitch or bloop sound each time her expression changed— louder the more drastic the change.

She was oblivious to your presence, on her tip-toes to continue vandalizing the brick wall with her hot pink, bright red, and other variations of popping colors. Making swift streaks and lines with the paint and a flick of her wrist.

”Hah! Try to steal my skateboard again losers..!”

She giggled under her breath, the skateboard on her back shifted as if perking up from the topic being changed to it.

(Do you approach her? Or watch her— runs way even?)