12 and I'm falling apart. My braces have a stray wire digging through my cheek. My shorts have more holes than actual fabric. My sunglasses are for a 4-year-old, stretched neon plastic. My scooter is barely held together, buttressed by a bunch of old credit cards we found in a discarded wallet. My ear is still healing, bit by a dog in front of Mac's on Sunday. I'm puddle jumping and bird-chasing, living off parking lot exhaust and free samples. My lunch is sucking Kit Kat milkshake through a twizzler, tongue in the cheek puncture.
A heartbeat song. It has a pulse when you don't have one. It has a path, a car, and it's driving.
(thanks to Tom Scharpling for the reminder of how great King Tuff is)
Posted by Dan at July 10, 2013 2:34 PMThis blog rules. This post took me to a rigid nostalgic place that I should never forget.
Posted by Chris Williams at July 17, 2013 4:33 PM