Papers flew off the back of his bike as he rushed through the streets to the coffee shop.
June 30th, 2026. The Nurburgring.
Blood coursed through his veins and ears as he put both of his feet down.
The mighty engine roared at this, the car inching forward as the the tires exploded in a cloud of smoke.
And it was back to the concert hall. The scraps of scorched wood crying in agony chafed his hand…
life gets pretty tough,
we all know that,
yet life’s pretty good,
i’m sitting here listening to some shit from the 80s,
chillin’ out here in cali doing my work,
wow.
it’s the fourth one.
at this point i’d be repeating myself,
26 letters…no capitals…emotion…blah blah blah.
but now i look at myself and realize the emotion i’ve been showing.
ah, yes.
here we are again.
another mix of just twenty-six letters.
welcome to a plethora of questions.
a strange reality,
she left me.
she was my world.
she isn’t here.
she took away the joy.
the conversations we had.
in the coffee shop.