LunglessArt

  “How old is this kid again?” Ashton asks.    “Three. I think,” Misaki says, drifting down the toy aisle.    Ashton sighs. She runs a hand through her silvery-blond hair. She has trouble trying to even focus on all the bright colours of the toy packaging. She picks up a purple box at random and examines it’s plastic contents. It’s a makeup kit for toddlers. She tosses it back on the shelf.    “See anything?” she asks, sidling up beside Misaki.    Misaki places a small brown tab on her tongue.    “Hey,” Ashton says, “you just drop acid?”    “Mm,” Misaki