hopped a fence to sit upon the concrete foundation overlooking where we live. the county over recieved the brute of a thunderstorm. crackles emitted from muted flashes of soft white and sudden forks breaking through the clouded sky. we were watching. the moon swallowed by blackness with breaks in a burning paper ceiling. the negative of burning wax paper. it curls with a glowing outline and never truly bursts into flames.
i stole veronica's bike and rode it around and around in the parking lot like some tripped out hoodlum. her bike is green. i pedaled with the weather surrounding me in a sweet nothing. i have never found the right word for how the weather can feel. when it is just right, it feels like nothing. no heat, no cold. just right.
our locator's name i victoria and i think she's like our age. she drove up in a lexus wearing a black skirt and lacy shirt combination and told the duplex we wanted wasn't for rent but the one in back was. i don't know. she still tried to unlock the front one. which means she hasn't got it all together either way.
odwalla makes a mean future shake. i really need two hundred percent of my daily requirement of vitamin b twelve and forty percent of the copper and selenium requirement (amoung countless percentages of other good vitamins and minerals) in fifteen point two fluid ounces of a vanilla al'mondo soymilk shake. did i mention it has organic oatmilk? somethings are just way too healthy for their own good.
mike flowed all night long. and it took a whole evening to usurp the stereo from such close-minded people. gogo dancing on milk crates. a sauna of a makeout room. just keep moving. i've accomplished my year long goal of scrubbing the ground. i love my drunk fashionista. halter tops, sunglasses and plastic pearl necklaces. guest run ins with the kids i was friends with in junior high and my first boyfriend. my clothes sweat off and we're still fucking singing.