Re: Call: Misha B/Damian W
Yes, [he says idly. He decides he will smoke his cigarette here, on the corner, though people seem to make faces at him for his audacity. He hardly notices them. Or, so he thinks, because then they begin to come into sharper focus. Not visually. Just... as if they are impinging on his awareness more, encroaching, and then Damian recognizes he is cold. He throws the cigarette down, crushes it underfoot, and continues walking. Somewhat irritated.] I am fine. [He sniffles again.] You did that?