I’m in the mood for a tuesday teaser, only…it’s Wednesday.
I am such a rebel.
From the new super-sekrit project:
The tram hurtles on through the night, until finally we level out. At the third stop I hop off, wave a fake-cheery goodbye to Marietta, and trot down the darkened street to my flat. There’s a small pizzaria on the corner of my building, and the smell of garlic and cheese slaps me, leaving my face greasy.
I head inside to the cigarette machine and buy myself a pack of Llamas.
“You staying for a beer?” Lou the owner is rolling out dough, and his arms are dusted white. The place is pretty quiet. A couple are pressed head to head over their shared Four Seasons, and a bored mother bounces a toddler on her hip while she waits for her take-out.
I wasn’t actually going to stay for a drink, but it doesn’t sound like a bad idea.
“Yeah,” I say. “Actually no, fuck it.” I only drink beer because it’s cheap, but I’m not really what one would call a fan. “Make it a vodka tonic.”
Lou’s nephew runs behind the small bar and set me out an ashtray and quickly makes my drink. I take a seat and let the fizz and bite of the tonic play across my tongue. On the small corner tv, Tomas’s latest poem is getting the full treatment. Some doe-eyed crooner is singing in his girl’s voice about love oh oh oh, and hordes of scantily dressed women gyrate in time.
And this is the shit that goes to the top ten? Kinda makes you lose all faith in humanity.
“Another one?” says Lou’s nephew, and I nod.
It’s going to be a miserable night.
I keep meaning to do this but I’m a laaaaazy wench, but Here! Now! I’m walking to Rivendell.
You have walked 7 miles.
You are at Last View of Hobbiton.
It is 11 miles to the next landmark.
You have 458 miles to reach Rivendell.
I think I have a fair trek ahead of me.