seventy-four : orange sherbert
after hours they emerge from the woodwork. no-one sees them. no-one except henry, but he keeps quiet. he stands in the shadows and watches them melt into existence. they move silently through the dark in groups. a noise comes and they scatter like beetles.
tonight i’ve been listening to the black ghosts. i’m feeling weird. unsettled. a little lost. tomorrow night is my last class for the year. i use the word ‘class’ loosely though—we are going to a bar. will miss tafe over the holidays, i think. looking forward to the new year. i know i say it every year, but maybe this one will be a little better. i’ll be more productive, more successful. happier, fitter, better. you know, the usual list of improvements. ramble ramble ramble. i don’t quite know what this is meant to be about, or what the relevance of orange sherbert is. but… yeah. like i said, i’m feeling weird. aaaand i’ve gone and written more in my post-post rant than in the post itself. oops.
-
captainsoiree liked this
-
acircadianrhythm posted this
