He means nothing and feels nothing. When they throw him in lockup overnight, the tears that he quietly sheds are weightless in their definition.
They all crashed into each other, first with a little too much aggression deemed appropriate for a reunion, and then with all the happiness of breaking a long separation.
The first time they met, Min had been beating a man up with the heeled end of her stiletto.
There was a time when she walked upright. A time when she ran through the wind, danced on the dirt. Her feet drew planets and universes on the dry soil. Her legs spun gold and silver in their gait.
The wall opposite was built entirely with old glass bottles strung together, which was what dragged him here in the first place.
They stood in awkward silence for some long minutes after that. Feet shuffled, coat pockets jingled, gazes dropped, overhead speakers let out the latest pop songs.