Jack imagined he could read in her emerald gaze a longing for highway and the hypnotic animation of telephone wires dipping and weaving through finger printed glass at sixty miles per hour.
Throughout the year, he looked forward to the alchemy of October and was invariably disillusioned when it finally came about; he hoped this time would be different.
seriously tho, having worked in a soul-crushing grocery store, I can say you've captured the feeling of "man i'd love to pursue my creative endeavors, but i need to put crap on shelves instead. excuses" well.
( ... )
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment