she had a steak knife in her mouth, so i pulled it out because it seemed like the right thing to do.


driving down the road, he asked me what my plans were. and this time, i didn't know what say..so, i studied my hands. they looked 10, 20 years older than they should of, and he kept going on.
'this road isn't made for drinking.'
no sir, it's not. the air was still freezing, and i wondered what was even going on. the stops and the goes, they were pretty unexpected. from time to time we were different people: different people than the summer before, than the week and night before. i think we were older, or maybe we just thought we were older. the song in the background was a broken hearted one, the kind where somebody leaves someone. i'd heard it a thousand times before getting that.
nowhere really had what anybody really needed, so it was basically over.

my hands were still red when we got back. the questions ceased and became reminiscing and the future all in one. my job had been done, enough.




it was midnight, which is hot-tub hour. we left the work for awhile and went outside. it was raining a little bit. we stepped into 100 degrees of pure bliss, and all of the aches of the day disappeared.

all in all, it was a good weekend.

so you're gonna have to show me how that dance is done, the one where somebody leaves someone...