money lover! open

( b u r d o c k )

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I don't think I'm a very good wife if I'm being honest. I'm pretty terrible, really -- I don't think I've ever bought a present for Fern besides our wedding rings. Aren't I a gift enough? Before I left, that is; we're still together, I think, but are we in love? Hell, who even knows what love is, I feel just as excited rubbing my hands on the glitter cards at the post office. Is that love, am I in love with a post card? 

Perhaps! You can never rule out any grand theory, and I'm really thinking about being a scientist. Maybe an astranamist, you know, those guys that stare at the stars and everything. I've been locked up in that lighthouse keeping my eyes peeled and the most of what's out there is the ocean, and the sky that dances on it. A nice little ballerina, but then I've got a tit out and a cigarette in my mouth. It's the perfect life! 

Nobody to annoy me up there, I can just look out and do my job- and I'm the money fuckin maker around here. Rain and River leaving me to my own devices and I flash my little beacon if I see peacekeepers or pirates out on the water. Every so often,  I'll see that flash of red out there and think it's my girl, Fern, finally make her way after me. 

But nah, it's just blood. 

You know, shark attacks and all that, people try to swim out there and they've got no clue what they're doing! I've always know that the water is fucking evil, ain't no different than the kind we got over in three. Pollution on the surface and evil below it, I hate how small it makes me feel. I hate how much I like that feeling, the adrenaline of being swallowed whole in those waters; I ain't ever going swimming. If I were born here, I think I'd be dead fourty times over at this rate. 

So here I am, kicking the rocks in the pavement as the land goes from beach to city. The post office is a wide, sandstone like building and I'd walk past it every so often. I just like wandering aimlessly sometimes, smoke a blunt and see where it takes me. Manifest the words red dog in my head and I'd wander along, see a frankenfurter on the ground and- there it is! My red hot, eat it and crunch on the sand for texture, little side piece and I wish I had some mustard. 

The letter's been in my duffle bag for a while, addressed to Fern and the district over, and I smile at the worker, placing my hands weakly on the counter. "Okay, look," tongue touching my upper lip as I talk, "I know that inter district communication is like, so banned or whatever, but," I say, sliding the letter slowly over the counter. "Do your girl a solid and help out? I've got a penpal and she's six feet tall, be a good wingman for me, yeah?" A doll, really! It would be so, so, so kind if you could break the law, just for me. 

Fur collar tickles my neck but I'm already hopelessly gleeful - "yeah, no can do."

"Please?"

"Definitely not."

Fuck me, "how do these other kids do it then -- you don't understand this girl is hot hot."

"Look, have a peacekeeper or a victor do it, I don't get paid enough for this." 

Utterly useless, really, I slide off the counter and pout in the way I picture statues do it. Taking some innocent steps towards the other side of the post office, sliding a mother's day card under my coat. Eventually I just make it to the oak tables in the corner, slamming my body onto the bench as I look up at some bitch here with me. "You know a way to send this to three?" I say, gutted. 

"Y'know, legally and all that."