I daydream at night about my grandparents. A hotel in Avery. The stale sourness of the bar in my childhood mouth. A cigarette dispensing machine behind me. Hours of Dig Dug while my parents worked vacant shifts. Lincoln logs and joyously hot french fries in the guest suite room at night. Arguing of trivialities with my sister. The rumble of a graying old man. The anxious energy of his wife. The smell of pine tar on the drive back home. A grayer place than that one.
11:11 a.m. - 2017-06-26
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