Short Story: Party at 17 Harrington Way
Shaun was sat grinding the weed and passing it to Hayden who was rolling it into joints and spliffs. Youtube was on the TV, roughly a quarter of the way through a two hour compilation of 4Chan memes. Louie was the only one watching. Harry sat on the room’s only comfy chair, looking inattentively at his phone, scrolling through Reddit posts on r/Drugs and r/Psychonaut and occasionally replying to messages. The room, at least to someone who wasn’t used to it, smelled strongly of marijuana, even though they hadn’t smoked in here in weeks. Not since the landlord started turning up more often. They smoked in the garden now, or stood at the door if it was cold. They had all theorised on multiple occasions that the bud had now absorbed into the fabric of the carpet, the chairs and the sofa, and likely into the hair in their nostrils, and into their skin, meaning with every second they grew deeper into osmosis with the plant. The time was half six, crisp blue evening air covered the outsid