I love this seaside town. The moody beaches. The moody barman. Where an insult feels like an embrace. When he asks me what’s happening and pours me a whiskey for free. That he knows more about my life than any friend. That he knows my mid life crisis will involve me wearing dresses. That he doesn’t believe I own any already and scoffs at the thought. That I can stumble home in a warm booze buzz and know that tomorrow I can walk in and be smiled at.
Cigarettes are great when you’re down and out; a loyal but deadly friend. You may have nothing but you have cigarettes. I will be truly down and out when I have no cigarettes and just this black dog 2/10/18
I took my wallet with me. And my cigarettes. In case I ran into you and you said, lets have a beer. Even though I haven’t run into you once in the two years since you moved here. 2/10/18