(no subject)
It was a leaky kind of rain as I walked into the coffee shop, like the gods' way of telling you what they thought about your life. Got a couple of shots from the cute redhead behind the counter - burnt, grainy, and bitter, but better than the rejection and scorn I usually get from her type. Some days you want coffee to tell you if you're alive or dead... this lets you know you're alive, and makes you wish you weren't.
I sit down and finally check my phone; I don't know the number and let it keep ringing. The only two numbers I care to see I already have memorized: one's a pretty young thing in Jersey who wants me to change her life, and the other's a dame who used to love me... maybe one of these nights she'll be lonely enough to pretend she still does.
Just maybe.
I sit down and finally check my phone; I don't know the number and let it keep ringing. The only two numbers I care to see I already have memorized: one's a pretty young thing in Jersey who wants me to change her life, and the other's a dame who used to love me... maybe one of these nights she'll be lonely enough to pretend she still does.
Just maybe.