*REJOICE, because the sun rises in the tiny hours of the morning with the bull-stained troops continuing their chanting. Someone hollers “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” and then an echoing crack– balloon filling rapidly to a taught, purple end.
It’s 7 in the morning on the 1st of January. The warm glaze from a bottle of Jameson paired with the salt-watery GHB retreats. A loud crash through a short table of papers, cups and glasses- hidden valley ranch dressing and carrots smash across the wall. (more…)