Celeste
I chew holes in my cheek as I pace between the television and balcony. It's pouring rain tonight, much the same way it has been pouring rain all day. Dumpsters still manage to burn. To me this is a protest all the same, just in a different font. The main difference I notice is the absence of stolen ambulances and their oscillating lights. I wonder what the people on the other side of the apartment see since they overlook the city. There is definitely a buzz around the harbor but I am more concerned with the highlands. I don't know if I'll be able to see anything from here but I keep close to the balcony anyway just in case.
My phone is in my hands. Friends who are not involved with, nor privy to, Matthew's rebel memorandum—therefore not mutual friends—are messaging me in group c
