whatpumpkins

There was the night that we all got lost together, and not even by accident. Jack had two bottles of amber in his air-bitten backpack and I had plenty cigarettes for all of us, and instead of watching the women selling chemicals and insurance on my old TV we picked ourselves up and left the hazy domestics behind us. Mr. Walters from downstairs was putting a new nameplate on his letterbox, all scripted and joined up like a wedding invitation to the tax companies and accountants; and he looked at us and said Where are you going at this time, August? I said with the widest smile, September, anywhere, and we walked on. It was on purpose and yo

i), The first time I met the girl who started a revolution the sky was throwing down so much rain it felt like we were underwater. It was hard to breathe; and maybe that was because of all the rain, but probably it was because I looked at her face, under this dark red hood, and inside I was a story with all these feelings I could never say. I guess those feelings could only ever become words on paper - words in ink - not the kind I could ever speak aloud to anybody, if only because I couldn't bear for a person to see the look on my face while I remembered. Despite how good it felt - so hopeful, so desperately happy for what it was and could

There was the night that we all got lost together, and not even by accident. Jack had two bottles of amber in his air-bitten backpack and I had plenty cigarettes for all of us, and instead of watching the women selling chemicals and insurance on my old TV we picked ourselves up and left the hazy domestics behind us. Mr. Walters from downstairs was putting a new nameplate on his letterbox, all scripted and joined up like a wedding invitation to the tax companies and accountants; and he looked at us and said Where are you going at this time, August? I said with the widest smile, September, anywhere, and we walked on. It was on purpose and yo