Toys ‘R’ Us said it best. “I don’t wanna grow up.”
Getting old is harder than sterling silver dipped in liquid nitrogen. I often find myself staring into the deep gray abyss of the twilight and wondering if this is it. If life exists to simply amass a small fortune, raise a family and perish – leaving behind a legacy if you’re lucky, but more often than not, generally fading away like a solar system that’s lost it’s sun.
“I am so over meth,” she exclaimed, without a hint of irony.
Her teeth, occasionally radiant but mostly dulled and frayed from years of foreign deposits inhaled, shone semi-bright in the glimmer of the two-p.m. sun. It was brisk, but not chilly. She was warm, but still cruel.
Neither of us had desk-jobs, so we were free to meander and dip in-and-out of epiphany as we saw fit during working hours. She draped herself in a grey cardigan with cigarette burn-marks tied haphazardly around her neck.
“How could someone work so hard to accomplish so little?” Continue reading