Who taught the roots to mirror the branches?
Shidra leans back and exhales. “Junk was like pissing in the pool next to this, man.”
Vyasa grins and nods. “Pass the book–”
What do all fingers seek to touch?
Tranquility ices his chest, his shoulders and neck. “Mother of fuck,” he gasps, and reads another.
How did the master lie with a question?
He gurgles and thrashes the book away. “Shit! He’s enlightening!” yells Kavi.
Vyasa’s eyes are white; his nose foams. “Grab his shoulders!” Shidra snaps, stabbing three mils of worldly desires into Vyasa’s chest and slapping the plunger home.