Wednesday December 14, 2016
Overheard in the line at airport security
Craving the punch of vodka like a mutherfucker. Craving the punch of a fist in my chest. My father’s speciality. It’s funny, what you crave, when you’re lying on the floor of the kitchen and the kids are screaming like the assholes that they are.
Craving a long bath in the tub that someone used to sing in.