Indulge Your Poon

Days grind on with enough variation of routine to make it painful. "It's only Thursday," she said. "My knees feel like they're on fire," I replied. "We are not surfing or playing drums. We are not saving money. We're dying in our own aquarium." I was not communicating with the expectation of response.

From the ashes, like an eerie silent battlefield,

DP