drunk

[sarahdotvee]

The night was young. Four o'clock in the afternoon maybe. I had ten dollars, a pack of cigarettes, and my good friend at my side. I decided to return to that garage I had been kicked out of so many moons ago.

I'm still wearing her t-shirt. I smell like cheap beer and my hair is sticking up at awkward angles.

So we arrive. It's cold. The kind of

Comments

[espionages]

sometimes old places, old faces have a habit of making us the most scared. it's all that history.