about the past.
walking around and deciding what to eat, perhaps an invasion of my p4 IPW which will be headache today and has me thinking about salads from cartel, swensens and blah. i couldn't hear what you said and since you've repeated it twice i walk around endlessly until the queue at the counter snakes out of the cafe and i have to join it at the back and i still have no idea what to eat. i return to the table hoping for a clue and you are not there, your chicken half eaten and messy on a huge plate, so huge that it tells me that everything is but a dream. i think of buying ribs and i ask A where you have gone. no idea. i want to buy ribs.
the scene changes and i see lots of freckles on you. huge brown freckles litter your back and your face. you have grown old, the skin not as soft and elastic as before, inching towards a leathery profile and the hair, once radiant and light is now heavy and flecked slightly in grey. your dressing has changed, you now are in some drab top. the pores on the face enlarged, the face drained of youth.
everything was the same.
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