pirategrapes
Something about banks scare me. Either it's the fake atmosphere, or the fake plants, or the elevator music...I'm not quite sure. I always try to go through the drive-thru to avoid any confrontation to the bank ladies with the big hair. They always seemed scary, anyways.
Everyone was gathered outside. The air hung thick above the trees with smoke and the stars were dimmed. It was frigid, but no one cared. On an occasion like this, there was no time to worry about the weather.
People passed along their pipes and blew out grey puffs that quickly dissolved in the moonlight. The building shook with the feet pounding on its foundation. Tonight they would dance.