My phone died before I'd even started the trek home, it was a long and silent walk, the bars closing. I focused on keeping feet straight and thoughts straighter and no worries tomorrow will be another day, the deadline will circle your drain as it does.
It was a perfect bar, it was. Nestled into its bureaucratic walls, only a small sign revealed its safe space of old men and rows of whisky. The bartender shook his head disapprovingly of my company; I loved him in an instant.
Secret stories make their way through my innards. How quickly the cab pulls over when you call it; it's just like New York and do you remember? I stumble over cobblestone streets numbly, reach my door, count down the minutes to my alarm.
How different these eyes will align
come morning.
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