a small victory

Friday night music making segued into MST3K geekery and porch-sitting in Lakewood with the Kentinistas, bruises and sweet softball victory, whoops and hollers and hugs and group photos all around, Saturday night stoner rock fill-in, meeting up with Tangerine for nighthawking at the diner for pancakes and conversations about the stalledness of our lovelives and the increasing feelings of small-town-ness, bicycle-riding with trepidation down streets of mansions, watching free Shakespeare in the park with the garden ladies, drinking cheap beer wrapped in a plastic bag. Dreamed of missiles hitting the lake and bombs dropping on the city and then woke up. The planes sounded extra sinister, and the daily grind feels strangely comforting.