GOD LOVES YOU
The black sharpie stained the inside of the taxi, some would-be skrifter either being ironic or simply clueless. There were about a thousand better places to tag than the inside of the door handle of Taxi #446. Still, Heph loved a challenge. More importantly, HEPHAESTUS LOVES YOU. It was hard to etch his fingernails small enough to fit the whole engraving into the handle but it would be worth it when some local schmuck felt the warm embrace of his sermon while trying to scramble out of this sLOW ASS FUCKING TAXI. "Dude, we've been in traffic for 8 days what the fuck is goin' on?"
The taxi driver ignored him.
"So much for service with a smile, huh?" Heph dug into his faded jeans and through several twenties from his latest commission at the mute and bailed. It was only a few more blocks and he'd walked further in the biting goddamn cold holy shit - "and I immediately regret this decision..." And he was off. The many bangles and necklaces he wore jangled and clanged as the idiot careened through the streets in his thin ass stupid jacket. He really should have planned better.
"Four blocks isn't so bad if you keep moving" he lied breathlessly. "Besides, the doctor recommended more cardio, didn't he? You'll be fine. Brisk mountain air and all that. Brisk smoggy industrial piss flavored air." Heph continued to rant to himself as he finally neared his destination, the lights bringing the promise of warmth...and snacks! "It's like roughage for your lungs, the shriveling biting cold. It's good for you but difficult, like a fast. It's like breathing Ramadan. Truly a beacon of manliness and - "
Heph burst through the door wheezing, thankful as all hell to be once more in the warm bosom of civilization...and potentially the warm bosom of a warm bosom. He locked eyes with a small bird of a woman.
"Nice..."
Another ragged breath.
"Jacket..."
