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ra, kastro, r u still down, james morrison (ii), laz alonso, zakk, culture: humor and satire, clarence williams iii, abortion, e cards, astronomy, christian slater,
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This kid was harmless, a college guy. His hair was trimmed perfectly and his teeth were braces straight. He looked at me and touched his cheek. “Nice tattoo, bro.” I gave him militia a chin up; this mama’s boy couldn’t possibly know what my tat meant, but I thought maybe he’d read it somewhere or something. “Thanks,” I replied. Why bother explaining? He just wanted to stay in the air conditioning as long militia as possible, didn’t give a fuck about my tattoo. He turned with a wave. “See you militia later, dude,” he said casually. The doors slid shut behind him. Turning back to the Astros, I found the antenna had fallen, and the screen was nothing more than gray and white static. Face to face with myself in the fuzz, I reached one finger up to touch the black tear on my cheekbone. I knew where it was without the reflection; I could still feel the glass cutting into my skin.
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