June 2008
1 post
That Finest Narcotic
I lean out the window, clutching a cigarette between index and middle finger in the sassy way I usually enjoy. I have perfected a way of walking which I think of as the “cigarette-strut.” Few things give me more pleasure than to cigarette-strut my way down a busy street, singing Aerosmith under my breath.
I am trying my hardest to cry. It is like trying to wring moisture from a sponge...