Darjavine

Jasmine left the house and tucked her chin into her winter coat. This was good as it hid her insane mutterings both visibly and audibly. It was also very comfy. “Um, okay,” she said to herself as she made her way down the street. “Everything’s okay. This morning is okay.” She manoeuvred around smeared dog-shit. “Gross. But gross. Everything’s okay but gross.” A man turned onto the street she was walking on. “Okaaay. Everything’s okay and gross and I’m going to die.” She made fists in her pockets, remembering to keep her thumb on the outside like Toby said. “I’