56 6 1
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I was in a box. On a porcelain throne. In the acoustically annoying Executive Ladies’ Room. I had peed on the stick, and didn’t like the color I’d drawn.
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15221
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He lies in bed for hours every night, thinking, until finally he falls asleep and finds himself sitting on a cracked wooden stool behind the curtain at somebody's club. Fender Strat slung at his waist. He stares ahead, face unmoving, chain-smoking Camels, waiting. Long…
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130632
|
One thing about being a musician—more specifically a drummer—struggling against the cost of living—more specifically the cost of living in the Bay Area—is that I will do just about anything to earn money.
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118200
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Walking home, carrying his guitar case, Jed felt the sums of his life adding up to dangerously high numbers, the deadly inertia of vaguely comfortable apathy swallowing his time. His moment would soon be fading. Because, like many young men before him, Jed…
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1230179
|
He deplaned Air France flight 9 from JFK to Charles de Gaulle airport at quarter past noon.
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4511
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I got the job after Booker was shot.
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