Friday's We're In Love

Solve for work

There is no written word without a weary hand wielding the pen.

Any light in any storm

The veneer of visibility as a performance is nice, and it is also nothing.

Bitter Melodies, Turning Your Orbit Around

My first coffee was poured from the spout of a steel urn into a styrofoam cup, the kind that squeaks and crunches in your hand when you touch it that I’m certain was a little toxic.

The lost memory of a perfect McPizza

I can tell you that McPizza was salty and sweet, with perfectly melted cheese that tasted a little like an old ninja turtle fresh from 2 minutes in the microwave, all melted plastic and nostalgia.