piney pasta squizzle


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The day had left a bitter, anxious taste in my mouth, mingling with the whisky. Despite being let go, I felt sorrier for John than myself. After a few drinks in the cluttered back room I had left him there, still drinking, and begun cycling home. It was a truly miserable night but the heavy rain felt refreshing as I sang along with Brian Wilson, weaving down the wet streets. John’s business was getting bleaker by the day, and we both knew where it was headed. Nobody wanted old cameras anymore, and I felt ashamed to be also falling into that widening digital bracket. A block or so from my flat, making an unintended swerve, my bike began to slide toward the side of the road. ‘No, no, no…’ I willed out loud. [Read more…]