JESSICA JONES.
ind. jessica jones.written by michi.

definitely isn’t the first night she’s ended up where she belongs. the scents of stale bread & moldy,
fermenting fruit merge to form a rancid, offensive odor. unidentified liquids spill from the rips in the
garbage bags, dribbling onto her dark, leather jacket. nobody really pays her any mind as she lays
inebriated in the pile, a pathetic mess. but nights like these aren’t uncommon to her; jessica has
learned to take her licks & accept the situations for what they are: a crash course
on how to get kicked out of dive bars.
doesn’t take long, but eventually, she’s dozing off like a homeless
woman drowning in the bottom of a whiskey bottle.
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