The text message told me that someone else loved that song. Yes, it's a sad song... a song about the impossible and the dismantled. But sometimes something has to give and a song is written.
That was an amazing almond croissant I had this morning. In the pointy part of Silverlake, on a chair high and backless. Coffee was good too.
The cold spell is over. The temperature had fallen to 40. Breath was visible. Car engines had to "warm up." Coats were worn. Glad that's over.
The last song on the album kills me too. "All the living are dead. The dead are all living."
Tonight will be a good night. I will sit on my lame duck couch with my dinner granola, my olive bread, and my vitamin water. I will watch my favorite basketball team play my local team. I will watch my current employer's college team play the second best team in the country. Seymour the cat will sit next to me, like a loaf of sourdough on a pillow of clouds.
Bristol Farms sells an olive sourdough. For like seven bucks. Too expensive.