Safe. The first safe place I could remember, in a long time, a place to heal up again. Walls painted pale avocado, black and white cafe tiles, all put in for me. A miniature porch, with railings and posts that must have been scavenged from tables and chairs, faded wood boards, and a chair for me to sit. It looked over a yard mostly shaded by firs
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so much. this is a much better way of looking at it.
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Plus, it's like we're all on ships right now anyway, sailing willy-nilly, sometimes passing in the night, or even the full light of day. So if we only see each other seldomly, in port or passing, shouldn't we at least get treasures and adventures out of it?
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and that. that is a kick ass title to have. The next time you go out to a bar you should saunter boldly in the door, raise one hand in the air and proclaim it loudly.
preferably with a menacing ARRrrrr for emphasis.
Hey, I'm heading back home on the 14th. Still wanna get that drink?
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That said, you will at the very least have one more person to hold onto when the waters get deep. I'm coming home. End of August. Make cookies. I'll need them.
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