He looks tired, like someone walked on his skin and left footprints.
Too clear, too clean. The problem was precision, perfection.
I'm a dogged person. I respond to adversity with a steely resistance.
Nineteen eighty is almost here, thank God. the hippies are getting old, they blew their brains on acid and now they're begging on street corners all over San Francisco. Their hair is tangled and their bare feet are thick and gray as shoes. We're sick of them.
No one is waiting for me. In this story, I'm the girl no one is waiting for.
if thr r childrn thr mst be a fUtr rt?