Thursday, November 2, 2017

Pen And Paper

The road is always there. I use to dream about it when I was very young. When I got older I felt most comfortable moving about. From farms to cities and everything in between I felt alive when I was heading somewhere or nowhere at all. Just as long as I kept moving. 
Rolling into new towns meant new women and new pussy. Strip clubs and dive bars were where I felt the most comfortable. Dark and with the permanent smell of rancid beer that had been spilt and spewed over the years. I met the mother of my daughter in one of those places. Even out of the darkness there is sometimes light.

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