I made it!
I'm here, I'm here, I'm sorry I'm late. Days late.
Click click click click click click click click.
Just another suburban night. No, tonight was extraordinarily suburban.
After buying two laughably unhealthy and oversize sundaes....wait, I'm going to break it down.
Warm peanut butter sludge.
Three scoops of ice cream.
Fudge sauce.
Whipped cream.
Reese's chocolate chunks.
The tears of starving children.
Funny how fucking incredible that would've been to me as a child. It sounds like a fantasy I
would have written about in my grade two journal. After the entry about Sugar and Spice, my
imaginary cats (I guess I was everything nice? Good one Irene).
With our cream filled plastic cups and bubblegum pink spoons we decided to have a romantic
walk around the plaza....through the parking lot...past some people eating nothing special in a
Boston Pizza...then Steve says, "So do you wanna eat these on that grass facing Denny's?"
Summed up the night. But it wasn't sad. Sitting there with the coughing trucks and zooming cars
on Queen Street to our backs, my hand frozen from holding the ice cream, the Denny's sign glowing
dully above us...we were laughing.
It's early September and my world is shifting beneath my feet. Maybe this is the beginning of a
Murakami novel. Though I haven't encountered any cats.
Click click click click click click click click.
Just another suburban night. No, tonight was extraordinarily suburban.
After buying two laughably unhealthy and oversize sundaes....wait, I'm going to break it down.
Warm peanut butter sludge.
Three scoops of ice cream.
Fudge sauce.
Whipped cream.
Reese's chocolate chunks.
The tears of starving children.
Funny how fucking incredible that would've been to me as a child. It sounds like a fantasy I
would have written about in my grade two journal. After the entry about Sugar and Spice, my
imaginary cats (I guess I was everything nice? Good one Irene).
With our cream filled plastic cups and bubblegum pink spoons we decided to have a romantic
walk around the plaza....through the parking lot...past some people eating nothing special in a
Boston Pizza...then Steve says, "So do you wanna eat these on that grass facing Denny's?"
Summed up the night. But it wasn't sad. Sitting there with the coughing trucks and zooming cars
on Queen Street to our backs, my hand frozen from holding the ice cream, the Denny's sign glowing
dully above us...we were laughing.
It's early September and my world is shifting beneath my feet. Maybe this is the beginning of a
Murakami novel. Though I haven't encountered any cats.