Perfumed issues on Mill grease their way across the intersection, junkies look past them with fossilized erections. ‘Know a place for clean needles?” I told em to rub with a diabetic, they laughed until their ribs played against each other like windchimes. Mother was carrying her daughter, the son was looking a me wide eyed. I wondered how much of his life he’d remember me and the guy walking up and down the sidewalk talking about his jail rep and the dealer, “I just got one in between my knuckles so I snort the fucking shit man.”

Girl in small bus surrounded by meat boys of all white walled apartments. Think to talk about her favorite song might stick a fast one in her. Aluminum nights and cars with glow stick halos. Far away enough to be fascinated.

We descend on ourselves with steak knives and forks. break our noses on the front door and tell everyone to tell no one. This isn’t a mystery its pissing on stories.

It’s night and I’m preparing to close shop, my manager comes in smelling from booze with her lips scratched into clown paint and plant tumors for eyes screaming, “It’s 7 am it’s 7 am what are you all doing here.” She screams at me for a while as I tell her, “We’re both tired, let’s get some rest, get some rest.” She’s next to the knives and I look at her bloody knuckles and keep repeating myself until she believes it was her idea to leave.

Change locks and go home. Tell everyone to tell no one.