She serves the warmest smile, and pulls a perfect pint, her eyes like a goddess. Like Dionysus. Red wine in abundance, warm in texture and plentiful by the glass. In my mind, the most beautiful shapes enhanced by the toxins racing through my bloodstream, the vividness of my childhood, like the Creation, space and time
Johnny Cash on the Jukebox, Walk the Line. In a truck stop with bloodshot eyes, all-night drivers, and builders in blue jeans with arms as thick as legs. Also travelling salesmen, in cheap suits with frozen faces. I wait for Mary. And on a menu, on a chalkboard, white chalk, blue chalk shadows, powder on
