|
|
unhinged_frankless
|
|
unhinged
|
she was old by teenage standards but she had just learned how to drive. the timing of it all was priceless. not days after she finally gets her liscense, he calls her up crying, pleading for her to come back home. 'i need you' he said. she had moved away years ago. hoped he had lost the fucking number by now after the few rocky beginning months of being out on her own so far away from him. he always had asked her to quit smoking. it was her terminal act of defiance. of all the times she had gone back and forth between home and her independent location, she had never driven. and she realized now why she waited so long to learn how to drive. she liked to watch the highway slip by in the innocuous position of passenger. the way the landscape changed from state to state, within the same state; the curves of the road scared her less when she was in control of the car though. why was she going back to him? bottom line reached long ago, there wasn't any reason to believe it wasn't going to be the same. but the overwhelming urge to punch him in the face had in time grown into a noxious boiling mess in the pit of her stomach that needed to be released on the source. the new location had done so much to ease all her sickness. the only way it was apparent to her was that everytime she went home her hands started shaking again. everything inside of her tingled and trembled with the thought of all the control they all had over her there. she was speeding down the highway, cigarette in her left hand, balancing steering wheel and styrofoam coffee cup in her right hand blasting loud mind-numbing rock music out of the shitty speakers. all of it relics. all of it screaming home. why was she going back to him? it was a relic, a stain, a leash that even eight hours couldn't break when she was heading east again. the hot coffee splashed out of the cup onto her hand and her pants waking her up in time to realize that there was a stopped car too close in front of her. slam. more spilled coffee. no accident. her hands trembled uncontrolably and she sucked the last of the cigarette down and flicked the butt out the window. she noticed her right hand red and splotchy where the hot coffee had spilled on it. great, third degree burns on her hands. great. just great. and of course it was his fault. so much of it was his fault.
|
031111
|
|
... |
|
?
|
Did you drive a silverish car?
|
031112
|
|
... |
|
unhinged
|
i've never driven a car.
|
031112
|
|
... |
|
-.-
|
that was an enjoyable read.
|
031112
|
|
... |
|
unhinged
|
she walked down the stoop into the grey mist fog and crossed the street to wait at the bus stop. wanting to chase the coffee taste away with a mutual addiction, she lit up a cigarette. she timed her life around cigarettes. did she have enough time to finish a cigarette before the bus came? probably not. it was just her luck that the bus pulled up to the light around the corner seconds away from picking her up. she ground the cigarette out on the pole of the bus stop and dug her bus pass out of her bag. the neighborhood she lived in was ecclectic. the buildings and stores and restaurants along the bus route were nice to look at in the morning. this morning she had to pay close attention to the route because of the fog; but she was always afraid she would miss her stop anyways. as soon as she sat down, she looked ahead even though her stop was 7-10 minutes away depending on how slow the bus driver took the route and how many times the driver had to stop along the way. anxiety was still a bug in her heart ticking and nagging and pulling. quieter but it was still there. occasional attacks affected her stomach, coordination, made everything in her life painfully slow until she could crawl up in bed. awake was the nightmare most of the time. even in a new place; a paler less violent but typically obvious nightmare. her heart sunk down into her shoes when the bus passed the japanese restaurant about halfway through the route. things had been so hopeful here in the beginning. but it was turning hopeless again. always that sinking feeling. quieter but sinking.
|
031112
|
|
... |
|
unhinged
|
they sat on the floor of the room in the house that he shared with four other guys. he put on a dvd of some famous bass players. she watched the tv intently. 'i think you will appreciate this.' rolled eyes. she was always the one that appreciated things. sometimes all she wanted was an intense animal reaction even though she hated it when it was all over. she hated all the boys she had ever slept with. the one time she had wanted it just as much as him he had tried to make her feel guilty for him having a girlfriend back home. she had a boyfriend back home. she wasn't guilty. she was just using him to erase it all from her heart. how was that unfair to her? she noticed a cigar box on the floor. 'nice cigar box.' he motioned for her to hand him the box and she slid it across the floor. the lid flipped open and she noticed a big bag of cherry pipe tobacco. 'cherry is my favorite.' 'you wanna smoke one with me? i know you would rather be smoking something else but it's all i got.' she nodded. they passed the pipe between each other while they watched tv. she wasn't a puffer; the pipe kept going out. thick white smoke rolled out of his mouth. 'it's probably a good thing i don't smoke green. people would hate me if i did.' wordless, they passed the pipe between them as they watched tv. it got clogged. 'give it here. do you have anything to stir it with?' he handed her a pin and she loosened the half burnt tobacco and started it again. they emptied the pipe twice and he put it away. 'you want a ride home?' 'i can just take the bus if it's out of the way.' 'oh come ON. i'm going that way anyways.' his roommate was sawing away at a piece of wood on the back step in the dark. he looked at her questioningly. she wanted to scream 'we weren't fucking for christ's sake.' he dropped her off at the gas station around the corner from her apartment.
|
031112
|
|
... |
|
unhinged
|
what is it about your surroundings that makes you feel comfortable? what is the beauty in the door practically ripped off its hinges leading to the basement? what do you see in your neighborhood that makes you think that it's 'cute' ? she could have been a photographer too. the world, the whole world, was art to her. just walking down the street there were so many separate frames of beauty that she wanted to capture forever. if she concentrated hard enough on any single one for a long enough time they would come back in her dreams. concentrated beauty, when she could remember them. a retreating back, a broken door, a lost kitten, a homeless man. sad, but beautiful. lights and shiny things attracted her like crows. she collected them all in her mind. she liked to watch the way her tears reflected the light. sometimes she liked to think that they were little stars falling from her face. not to make the assumption that she was in the heavens with the stars cause sometimes she felt so low; just the way the physical stars twinkled in the sky like little pinpricks on a black shroud. she was strong enough to live by herself now but the loneliness got to her at times. late night phonecalls and noisy neighbors and the missing hugs; she still needed the hugs. and all the electronic promises of hugs just weren't the same as squeezing the fragile life out of his shattered shoulder blades. church was going to him. and he was too far away; had abandoned himself in the mire she had pulled herself out of. when is love ever enough?
|
031118
|
|
... |
|
unhinged
|
her phone rang. 'hey, it's me. i didn't want to have to tell you this...' silence 'are you there?' 'yes.' her heart felt like it had disappeared, all that was left a big empty aching space. 'are you alright?' 'just tell me. what the hell is going on?' 'uummm...well i found out you were coming back here. i didn't tell you sooner because i know how busy you are up there....' 'oh good christ and for fuck's sake, just tell me already.' she had pulled the car over to the side of the road. the phone kept bumping against her ear because her hand was shaking uncontrollably. 'he's dead. steve is dead.' and the empty space cracked in two. 'anla....anla are you still there?' 'when?' 'last week.' 'WHAT?! why in the fuck didn't you call me last week? for god's sake, we were all afraid of this. you know my friends and family are more important to me than any fucking stupid ass project i'm doing in school, even school. what the hell megan....' she started hyperventilating. 'anla please.' she sniffled. 'i know it's just an excuse. i could barely deal with it myself. you know how it goes; we were all sitting around doing the same shit we always do. you know he's been on the edge lately. you know about the heroin. i mean we all knew he was really bad, but....' 'but you all sat there and did nothing about it.' 'that's not fair and you know it. you did the same fucking thing when you were here. you sat there and got him high just like everyone else. you never said anything to him either. what did you want us to do? you know that he wouldn't have listened. he wanted to die. he told me all the time that the reason he did it was because it was socially excepted suicide. you used to be the same. i couldn't get YOU to stop even though it was just weed. how was i supposed to get him to stop something like that? anla...' 'yeah, it's all of our faults. your fault, my fault, their fault, his fault. but he's dead. HE'S DEAD.' suddenly, it all disappeared, everything inside her a big empty space. 'i have to go megan. i'm pulled over on the highway. i'm a few hours away still.' 'maybe you should stay pulled over.' .... time stopped at that exact moment. everyday after that was a cruel heartless joke. for weeks, she walked around crying. he wasn't looking at the same sky anymore. he wasn't laughing bitterly at best anymore. he wasn't trapped inside his own head anymore. they were confused tears. she felt selfish somehow for wishing he was still alive because she remembered her want to die. he was free now. but she was still here. without him. they never dated, they never fucked, hell they never even made out, but he was one of the closest men in her life. gone. and the more she thought about it, she had known that he was gone before megan called. the connection severed. she went to the cemetery when she got to town and left some bleeding hearts on his grave. she sang him his songs choked with tears. she went to the cemetery every day for hours but he wasn't there. the connection was gone. he was free, but now she was stuck in her head without him. she berated herself for being a selfish bitch. she left him flowers and sang him songs. she had told him a few months before she didn't want anymore angels. the connection was severed.
|
031202
|
|
... |
|
unhinged
|
when she finally got to town, she drove over to the westside trying to remember where his parents' house was. he had taken her there a slightly different way everytime and sometimes she wondered if that wasn't on purpose. she didn't even know the name of the street. she was just depending on the landmarks. every other street seemed like it was a cul de sac. stupid fucking developments. she could have just called him on the phone to ask him how to get there, but the rational part of her mind hadn't been working ever since megan called and told her about steve. she found it eventually; the red house with all the cars parked in front. but his car wasn't there. she parked her car on the street and knocked on the door. his mom answered. 'is ted here?' 'no. he's at work right now. he doesn't get home from work til usually around eight if he comes straight home.....you look familiar.' anla bit her lip. 'well....i...' 'you're the girl that he always talked about. not to me because he never talks to me, but i remember when you were coming around a lot for like a month sleeping on the couch with him. mostly sleeping anyways.' anla blushed. 'well....yeah.' 'well where have you been? i'm sure he pissed you off and that's why you stopped coming around.' 'actually i planned to move away to go to graduate school before i started dating him. he didn't piss me off til after i moved out of state.' 'so what are you doing back here?' 'he said he needed me.' 'well dear, he's needy. and i can tell now like i knew then that you are too good for my son. how long have you know him?' 'well, like six years now.' 'that long? wow. and you're still coming around? no offense, but you are either too sweet or too stupid to stay away. do you want me to tell him you stopped by?' 'uuhhh...yeah.' 'what's your name anyways? all the time you were in my house and he never introduced you to me. that's what i'm talking about.' 'anla.' 'ok anla. i'll tell ted you stopped by. he got your number?' 'probably not but that's okay.' she walked back to her car shaking her head. that was damn strange. his mother had never said a word to her other than coffee cups and she's standing there telling anla to forget her son. but the way he always talked about his mom, it didn't really surprise her that his mom didn't have much nice to say about him. maybe she would just go back. just turn around and go back. but she had to find out where steve was buried first. at least she hoped that he was buried. she got in the car and drove over to the southside. a chill ran down her spine; this place never changed. not in all the years she lived her and not in all the years she'd been gone. it was still the same. except that now he was gone.
|
031202
|
|
... |
|
unhinged
|
she was staying with jodi when she was in town. her mom away from mom; the one older person she could tell everything to. the first few days in town she spent at the cemetery. jodi kept trying to get her out but there weren't many other places to go. anla just had the feeling that if she kept going that maybe he would show up. walk up behind her and tap her on the shoulder, 'surprise, it was all just a big joke.' all the flowers she brought wilted in the snow but didn't fade, a big pile of green and bright pink and white like a pile of dirty clothes. after about three days, she started to chomp at the bit, wearing a muddy path around his headstone, kicking up grass and leaving him packs of cigarette butts in a coffee can. there weren't many people in the cemetery in the winter. the few that came were veterans. they always looked at her fresh grief with pursed lips of understanding the horrible. when she looked in their eyes, she saw how she would be weeks, months, years from now without him. was it so ridiculous to be this sad? when she thought about it, it was the inevitable outcome of it all. they all tried to live fast and hard hoping to outrun the desparation that smothered everyone around here. it wasn't a unique situation. it happened everyday more than a few times. but she sat there puffing like a chimney trying to figure out why it hurt THIS bad. they had only ever been friends in the most platonic sense. things that mattered hadn't gone unsaid. while she contemplated using his headstone as a bench and then finally sat down, it hit her. there was a depth of understanding in his eyes that she searched for in everyone else. she never found it. even though she never did, she could have sat down with him and talked to him about how she wanted to die. but she didn't have to because they could see it in each other. and all of it, the self_inflicted wounds, the bloody heartless sleeves, the drugs; they tried to stuff it back inside each other with bone cracking hugs. they held each other together. he was her glue. even though time and distance had eroded the hugs that held her together, the remembrance of it all supported her. but she wasn't enough for him. she didn't do enough for him. she abandoned him. they would all say she was over-reacting. it didn't matter. that was how she felt. and she never felt ashamed for any of that with him. maybe the drugs, but never the sadness. he never tried to make her feel guilty because it made him uncomfortable; it didn't make him uncomfortable because he had lived with it everyday too. tears were frozen to her jacket. her hands were almost blue because she refused to wear gloves when she smoked. it still stung like marks left with newblades , but she had organized it all for healing. she was done with the cemetery for now. she kissed her frozen hand and pressed it up against his name on the headstone. the pain would erode with time. it would take years she knew, but in the end it would be a shining pillar that supported her. the wind blew at her back as she walked away, carrying her to the car. she smiled. 'there he is,' she thought. 'pushing me forward.'
|
031230
|
|
... |
|
oldephebe
|
wondrous, aching beauty...
|
031231
|
|
... |
|
whitechocolatewalrus
|
captivating.
|
040106
|
|
... |
|
unhinged
|
she couldn't bring herself to call him on the phone. it was her old stupid shit; she told him she was coming. he should call her to find out where she was. and she waited for the phone to ring. and it never did. she drove back over to his house. his car was in the driveway. she thought maybe she saw him walk past the front door a few times. but she just sat there; she couldn't go up to the door and knock. she wanted to hang on to the little part of her that still loved him. didn't he get it? she drove all that way. didn't that mean anything? he asked her to come back and she did. and she was parked on the street outside of his house for hours and he never even knew it. .... she was laying on the pull out couch with her best friend laura. they felt like criminals because none of them were there with them. but they giggled and smoked more weed and watched cable. it was their own private motel room. they had even bought pajamas at wal-mart. and a few minutes after they were completely settled, the outer door opened. it was jimy. 'you guys said you were camping out here and you really are.' 'well no shit. that's what we said.' 'well i just came back from over on the far northside from jane's house and ted was over there and gave me a line of coke. i mean what good does one line do? it just canceled out everything else i've been doing all night. but i'm too geeked to go home. you guys want to smoke my last bowl with me?' laura looked over at anla anxiously. 'sure.' he took the bowl out of his pocket and anla's already stopped heart flipped over. 'that's katherine's bowl.' 'yeah. she gave it to me. she said she doesn't smoke anymore.' 'yeah. she gave it to me along time ago and said the same thing. i gave it back to her.' jimy looked at her weird. 'well i gotta go pee. i'll be right back.' he left the room to go to the bathroom at the end of the hall. 'OH MY GOD.' 'anla, he might hear you.' 'i don't care if he fucking hears me. he was doing coke with ted. WHAT THE FUCK' 'you have been gone for awhile.' 'yeah, i guess i have.' ........ and she had never wanted to stop talking to him. but he started doing coke again. there were a lot of drugs she could tolerate, put up with, do, but coke was not one of them. he was so mean to her when he was coked out. he had never talked to her like that before. he was always an asshole, but never like that. and she tried to chase him out of her heart. she made a new year's resolution that she wouldn't call him. but she burned a cd with lovehatelove songs and thought of the poems she might write out and mail to him. but she never called. she never erased his number out of her phone but she never called him either. because he wouldn't get it. he never did. and sometimes she thought of the day that they stood in front of her dorm after they had sex for the first time and he grabbed her hands because he didn't want her to go even though she had to go home to her parents' house. and he told her how he felt dead. and when she looked in his eyes she saw herself in the mirrors of his irises. he kept grabbing her hands and looking at her imploringly but she couldn't say anything. she squeezed his hand and stared right back at him. she remembered that when she sat on the street near his house watching the screen door for a glimpse of him to walk by. she wanted to get out of the car and run to him and hug him. but she was afraid that it wouldn't be like that; afraid that he would yell and scream about how she never called. the silence of alienation caused little tears to steadily roll down her cheeks, but she couldn't drive away. she was glued to her carseat. and she thought of all the times she wanted to call him and didn't because she was afraid he would yell. he always yelled at her on the telephone, especially when he was coked out.
|
040323
|
|
... |
|
nemo
|
unhinged you're my favorite
|
040323
|
|
... |
|
unhinged
|
she went back west trying to leave all of it behind. she never spoke to him even though she drove all that way for that purpose. she left without ever saying a word. he never called. he had the number and never dialed it. she had spent enough time standing at graves; she went back west. it became a weekly ritual to go out to the west side to karaoke. she never karaoked, just sat and watched as her friend becky and becky's friends sang and she sat and got really drunk. they stopped asking her after about the third week if she was going to sing. that same week there was a cute guy singing a sublime cover when they walked in; he was doing an impressive impersonation of bradley. he knew becky, of course. practically everyone there knew becky. he asked becky about her. they started to chat. by the end of the night, he asked her for a kiss. she took him out to the lobby away from ryan's prying eyes. he didn't even try to stick his tongue down her throat. he just came close and kissed her. her favorite kind of kisses. she gave him her number and becky took her home. he called later that night. 'i just wanted to make sure you got home okay. you were pretty drunk. i really want to see you again. what are you doing tomorrow?' 'actually, a friend of mine is having a party tomorrow night.' 'oh.' sniffle 'well i'll talk to you later.'
|
041018
|
|
... |
|
unhinged
|
she called him that saturday and left him a message saying she wanted to see him again. he didn't call her back. she figured he was just looking for some kind of drunken fuck that night and let the whole incident slowly bubble out of her system. at least she had gotten to make ryan somehow jealous. after all, when ryan and becky dropped her that night, ryan had made it impossible to get by him without a hug when she got of the car. even though she was still pretty pissed at him for what she knew was going to be no phone call after she had gone home with him a couple of weeks before, she gave him what she thought was going to be a quick hug, but he leaned down and gave her a trembling kiss on the head. as she walked to the door of her building that night, she wanted to scream. if he had those kinds of ambigiously vague feelings for her, why hadn't he called? he always called becky to ask if she was coming out. he had her number with a topless photo of her attached to it in his cell phone. HE could call HER. (but he never did) and then he sees her with another guy and gets all sweet with her. what the fuck....kasdfljiopwejasfld she had erased his number out of her phone. but when her phone rang, she recognized the number. it was his. "hey babe. i'm sorry i didn't call you. i was out west until yesterday. no seriously, i was. i swear i would have called you if i was in town. are you going to be there tonight?' 'yes i am. i'll be there probably in about an hour.' 'ok. good. i'll be there too.' becky came to pick her up as usual. she saved his number again in her phone. as soon as she walked in, he came over to her. 'i have some weed in my car. wanna go smoke?' 'of course.' 'it's got opium in it. it's really good. i gotta finish this pool game first. as soon as i'm done, we'll go out to my car.' 'ok.' opium...*sigh* she had only smoked it a couple of times before always with weed. was it really a good idea to go to this guy's car with him and smoke weed/opium? eh. she shrugged. she wanted green so bad she could taste it. school was driving her up the wall; the people, the bullshit, the work. she was hating practically every second of it. and she had been severely depressed for about six weeks running. opium was the last thing she should have been doing but the first thing she wanted to be doing. eventually he finished his pool game. he walked over to her with his partner rashawn and they went out to his car. rashawn had made a tinfoil bowl and they hit it in his car that was parked on the street right in front of the bar. the problem with metal pieces in general is that they get very hot very fast. when they got back inside, he bought her a jager bomb and watched with a twinkle in his eye as she slowly drained it. she wasn't good at chugging. she could slurp through a straw faster than anyone but that open the hatch throw it back shit was not her style. he lightly grabbed her hands as they talked and leaned in to kiss her every now and then. just sweet little closed-mouth kisses. not pecks, but he kept his saliva to himself. she found that endearing. then he went back to shooting pool and every chance he got, he came back to her to chat and hold her hand and kiss her. they went back out to his car to smoke again. this time they were alone. they opened the moon roof and she could see cassopiea nestled in the clear sky in the crook of a tree. she tried to point it out to him but he was too slant-eyed from the weed and probably too blind; he couldn't see any of the stars. they began to have wordless_conversations ; he brought up rashawn. 'you know i really don't do that stuff anymore. i just get it for him. i'm his dude. but i don't do it anymore...only like three or four lines at the most. last spring i was doing crack and i lost my job and was sleeping in my car...' and during all this her heart sank. 'you do know that i broke up with my last ex because of coke?' 'oh no, oh shit, no.' and she heard what he didn't say: 'i shouldn't have told her.' 'really, i don't do a lot anymore. i will just sit down and have a line when i drop it off for people. you should see the neighborhood i have to go into to get it.' no thanks. why? she thought. why? something about her had always inspired honesty with dishonest men which she couldn't help but admire, but she knew she had to ditch this guy. the cute loveable shaggy pothead that gave her sweet kisses and bought her drinks and placed his hand on the small of her back, who also just happened to be a coke dealer/user. 'you know if you ever want ANYTHING, i can get it for you.'
|
041023
|
|
... |
|
unhinged
|
she didn't know what the hell she wanted out of her friends anymore. it sounded so desirable to relocate; move somewhere where she didn't know anyone and start over. sometimes she just wanted to be anonymous. but other times, she was a danger to herself if left alone too long. that was when she valued knowing at least one person she could just call up and hangout with. carl was one of those dudes. he reminded her a lot of her brother; he was completely laid back. she could bitch about the most whacked shit and carl would just empathetically agree. he had a chill vibe about him. like a cloud of smoke, it rubbed off on her. he had saved her ass plenty of times when she was geeking at one of his parties or got too drunk at one of his shows. carl became like her brother away from her brother. since her brother had moved to new zealand, she missed having a platonic male around that took care of her without any expectations between them. they would just chill, get high, and watch a movie together or make brownies or listen to music. he just calmed her down. he could understand her at a glance. but he was like that with all his friends. as long as she had at least one safe place to go, it was going to be hard for her to leave.
|
060508
|
|
... |
|
unhinged
|
it had been a shitty day. anla had found buddha and got herself on a right track, but every human being is entitled to shitty days now and again. sometimes even with the tonglen, or maybe because of it, she just got so angry. at all the people in her life who had walked out; for drugs, for abusive boyfriends, to chase their careers. did they ever stop and think one goddamn second? could they feel all the long_distance_love she put out for them, even one little speck? just...damn.... yeah, it was one of those days. one of those days where anla doubted every nice thing she had ever done for 99.99% of the humanity she had had the unpleasure of caring for. she wanted to spit at the crippled old lady walking down the street, kick the stupid fucking yorkshire terrier that stopped to growl at her as she passed it on her way to the yuppie vegetarian grocery store. damn trendy ass eastsiders....yes, it was definitely one of those spit on your grandma, kick the annoying dog in the teeth, bitch about all of existence kind of days. to cheer herself up, anla decided to go to the bookstore on a credit-card funded shopping spree and browse the sizable discount section. at least one star was lined up right that day because she found a beautiful hard cover book by the dalai_lama with great photography in it on sale. since she was already to the bus route that took her closest to dave's house she decided to chance a visit even though she had called earlier and he didn't answer. if he didn't answer, he generally wasn't home and didn't plan on being home anytime soon but she could always chill on the porch and peruse her books before she turned around to head home. her phone started to ring; she pulled it out of it's assigned pocket and noticed it was an uni.d.'ed number. damn...it was her regular thursday night and sometimes saturday night fuck, aaron. 'hey dude, are you waiting for the bus or something?' she looked around to see if she could spot his sand colored lexus. 'yeah...' 'okay. you need a ride somewhere?' 'well, i was just gonna take the bus...' 'come on dude. where are you headed?' 'over by oakland and locust.' 'me too. i'll swing back around to pick you up.' anla tried to suck down as much of her cigarette as possible because he only smoked in his car or let her when he was drunk. just the last person she honestly wanted to see today. she was already treading on shaky ground, and then she has to encounter aaron in the afternoon stone sober. she gave into his smalltalk but didn't look him in the face when she talked. 'dude, i'm not even sure if my friend is home.' 'DUDE, i don't have time to wait for you...' 'you don't have to.' she got out of the car and she sped off to pick up his 'friend' to go to the movies. anla chilled on the porch sifting through the photos in her dalai lama book watching the five jewish little girls that lived on the block ride back and forth on their bikes and talk to the crazy guy a couple houses down. it was 99% a college street. the jewish family was the last family on the block. slowly the college kids had chased most of the families out of the near eastside. after sifting through all the photos, she knocked one more time and then took off to catch the bus that ran closest to her house. as she turned right onto kenwood, she looked up at the oncoming sidewalk traffic and saw him and his girlfriend walking towards her holding hands. her heart jumped a little and she pasted her patented 'have a nice day stranger' smile on her face and waved a little at his girlfriend. as they got close enough she barely made eye contact with both of them and said 'hi' with just the right amount of energy and contrived happiness. he said 'that's a lot of books' but anla heard 'looks like you're lonely bitch' and through the hole fifteen second exhange no one even slowed their stride. after about a block, anla turned to look and they were almost to the corner of kenwood and oakland, holding hands. it was that kind of shitty day.
|
060711
|
|
|
what's it to you?
who
go
|
blather
from
|
|