(no subject)
The things I miss.
Driving through summertime Pittsburgh high in the back of Anthony's VW, with David in the front seat, listening to Bitte Orca with the windows all the way down. A copy of "The Mysteries of Pittsburgh" in my bag. Messy hair.
Camping with them and Yoli. Driving out to Otter Creek around midnight to lay on the cold sand, water lapping at our feet, contemplating smallness, watching meteors, with the moon coming up a red sun to our right, drawing a shimmering red line in the lake that looked and felt like an ocean.
The feel of my car going just a little too fast around the bends of M-22, sand itching between my skin and the leather seat.
Driving through summertime Pittsburgh high in the back of Anthony's VW, with David in the front seat, listening to Bitte Orca with the windows all the way down. A copy of "The Mysteries of Pittsburgh" in my bag. Messy hair.
Camping with them and Yoli. Driving out to Otter Creek around midnight to lay on the cold sand, water lapping at our feet, contemplating smallness, watching meteors, with the moon coming up a red sun to our right, drawing a shimmering red line in the lake that looked and felt like an ocean.
The feel of my car going just a little too fast around the bends of M-22, sand itching between my skin and the leather seat.