Strolled the streets of Burque like a derelict tonight, drunk off kombucha and the vintage neon lights of Nob Hill along Route 66. Passed a thousand hookah shops, tattoo parlors, adult video stores, artsy theaters, and romance-laden restaurants. Ate a solitary shawarma at The Sahara, and then returned to Graceland Avenue for a second night.
Desires pull me seventeen directions. Round-trip flights to Dublin are $561, and to London it's less than half that. This kind of freedom taunts my consciousness.
I feel like a pigeon on the threshold of an open box. He sits there, briefly, ill at ease, as if options were shotguns pointed at his heart.
5 comments:
You're always welcome in Elko. Spring might be a better time to visit. Spring might be better for Dublin, too, for that matter.
Ah, but trucking limits my spring/summer/fall options. If only this bird could teletransport.
are those last 2 sentences yours Chris?
i really like them.
either way.
heck yeah, those sentences are mine. i was inspired.
well, on that note, i like them even more!
-the same anonymous
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