weird
I’ll get there. Bouncing on the throne of a trrrrrruck. My head in the clouds. My baggage (empty photo albums and tarot cards) packed and bound out back, where it belongs. The hearts of friends beat from just within my battered wrist and my hand rests on a 2 foot stick shift.













1 Comment so far
Leave a comment
Leave a comment
Line and paragraph breaks are added automatically.
Your e-mail address will not be displayed.