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Category: Short Stories

Backtrack to the 28th

Can this month go any slower? I slam my first real car in a pole and time pops a dozen chill pills. Enjoying the moment is one thing but I’m not. Waiting for my bike licence with a big lug for transport is eating my soul, moral shred by decent morsel. It could be worse, I mean I could have died a fresh young man and not a withered youngish man. Just waiting, stationary while life goes on at this drugged pace with little to no regard for wants or desires.… Read more Backtrack to the 28th