I don't know why the Friday wine tastes better than all others but it does, and I don't even work on weekdays.
Stephanie
comes back from whatever it is she does, I'm three glasses ahead of her
and wearing my most seductive shade of Chanel Rouge Allure lipstick (98
Coromandel). Her father is coming on Tuesday, it's all she talks about.
Tomorrow
we're going to the ocean. I haven't seen it since Miramar last summer
and it could just as well have been a lifetime. I often dream of late
nights and early mornings on Venice Beach, long after sunset, our bare
feet in the cold sand, waves crashing in like thunder. Hearts racing
from the alcohol and the opium, a small crowd of friends and him beside
me like a whirlwind in the grayish dark.
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