Today:
Lately I’ve found myself between bus transfers. The 6 to the 4 to the B to the 13. After a while this all begins to sound like high school’s differential equations. You know, those ridiculous test questions we assumed would have no place in reality. But then arrives the existential equation: what is my reality?
Yesterday:
Even two glasses of free champagne could not make the quilted purses look buyable. Each bag was created out of some messy, bold pattern, and screamed like it was being attacked by our retinas (or visa versa). But the champagne was free, so I kept my wallet shut, and chatted with the former Hawaii governor.
No comments:
Post a Comment