Sta.sh
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relentless Brian went outside to warm up the car while we finished getting ma's belongings together. I rummaged through a wicker basket for a couple old Reader's Digest magazines while Robbie darted down the hall after our coats and mittens. If it hadn't been for the mechanical gasp and click of the respirator, I might have forgotten ma was nearby. She sat on the sofa with her hands folded neatly in her lap and smiled placidly as I finished and looked up. I asked if she was ready to go and she simply nodded yes.relentless by ~pilltalk
It had snowed during the night. The first snow of the season, and so close to Christmas. The field across the road was a delicate white as f
old prose 2 Mick Spassky was the only functional cokehead I knew. Everything he did seemed to be excessive in some way, and right when we thought he was a goner, he'd always do or say something completely out of the blue and bring it all back around. I don't know if he ever consciously realized what he was doing, but it was amazing to see.old prose 2 by ~pilltalk
I knew someday it would catch up to him, though, and it wouldn't be pretty. Hell, it wasn't pretty now. It wasn't a big secret that Mick Spassky was on his way out. The way he rolled off the couch onto his feet, how he got red-faced and pained just walking the steps to his apartment; he looked like a bloated fish. T
lost Sometimes I'd ride in the back and watch lines cut the sky into squares and slender rectangles. Being a passenger made me feel like a kid again. I could get lost in the details and not have to worry. I liked that. I liked sneaking into the city. At night it felt like the buildings were all invisible. Every window was just another square filled with hot fluorescent light, and they climbed, row after row, into the atmosphere until every one was a little star.lost by ~pilltalk
I often wondered what life was like in each of those little windows. I could see wives on the phone with their husbands and friends. I could see kids sprawled on the floor with TV in th
old prose Right now, I was under the ocean—a million miles away from the surface where the sun stood shimmering, and never cresting but in my own way, on the inside—a heaviness lifting from my entire body like I was made out of sludge and dissipating. Jack and Bobbie slumped on the couch, probably in the same place I was, and Rod behind them dancing slow and stupid, oblivious to everything but the big beat. The lights were such that everyone looked attractive in them—distant enough that the shadows cut angles on our faces and made us slim and mean looking—like we were all out of our fucking minds—and sick, like our skin sweat nold prose by ~pilltalk
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