Waxy Dreams

“Late night beings, we are.” She whispered as the hollowed out holes of cardboard whistled. I was too tired to care though. Our heavy eyes rested in a box for two.

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Bro, listen…

I was adequately rejected by another manic pixie dream girl. When did distance become an issue? Her dubious reasoning was caustic and feminist. My pal, Angel, prudently believes I should quickly move on. It’s been a long perilous week.

Can I call?

It was a week and some odd days before I popped a molly. I was talking to Ashley. She’s a sarcastic red head with four eyes and a feminists voice. We talked about Austin among other things. The conversation felt plastic; shallow for clarities sake, but nonetheless her impression was deep. After we hung up, I fell asleep. My night was made.