Enter another rocky mayflower morning aboard the stacked ship of buttery regulars. Elevator rides with nervous Friday opportunities and raspy morning hellos. The basement convenience smells of fresh coffee and the stale blue ribbon and syrupy jugs of another night of dreams crushed and the same stories retold.
It is not long that the rich sounds of waves, green smells of bait set and promised escapes lure schools of fish out from their glimmering shiny window boxes to the hungry lair of the PHR Sharks. Who are ready to bait and switch a glittery reward I exchange for a meal.
I watch as the slumbering friendly bears head bobbles between wake and hibernation. A teacher without his pupils can finally lay his head down. I only hope a soft elevator ride drifts hims up to a 5th floor story.
Sheila heads out every day at dusk as fresh as a vodka-soda-lime and returns before dark. You would know this if you stopped brewing you're already cold styrofoam baseme t bar coffee.
"I'm taking the train at five," destiny has lead to a chance lobby greeting. A late husbands spirit heavily lingers and with that, June appears. We can only proceed to the pit where the story continues, where whiskey infused memories are released and one cheek glistens as a burden is released. A reporter by trade, by nature, awaits every heartbreaking staggering detail. What does that pike of feathers mean? I must ask about the blue astro van. A precious child aims and shoots.
It is not long that the rich sounds of waves, green smells of bait set and promised escapes lure schools of fish out from their glimmering shiny window boxes to the hungry lair of the PHR Sharks. Who are ready to bait and switch a glittery reward I exchange for a meal.
I watch as the slumbering friendly bears head bobbles between wake and hibernation. A teacher without his pupils can finally lay his head down. I only hope a soft elevator ride drifts hims up to a 5th floor story.
Sheila heads out every day at dusk as fresh as a vodka-soda-lime and returns before dark. You would know this if you stopped brewing you're already cold styrofoam baseme t bar coffee.
"I'm taking the train at five," destiny has lead to a chance lobby greeting. A late husbands spirit heavily lingers and with that, June appears. We can only proceed to the pit where the story continues, where whiskey infused memories are released and one cheek glistens as a burden is released. A reporter by trade, by nature, awaits every heartbreaking staggering detail. What does that pike of feathers mean? I must ask about the blue astro van. A precious child aims and shoots.
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