one experience i would like to live over and over again...is being in a small cabin-alone-somewhere by a lake...drinking rum...having the sound of a cheap radio competing with the sound of a crackling fire...i sit and i write...it is early july...june bugs pounce upon the screen door...like 13 year old children into their parents liquor cabinet...almost with violence...but the memories the sound brings back to me soften the noise as if to be melting glass .
suddenly...i am too drunk to write anymore...i walk down the country road...i feel pleased with my endeavor...all is fine .
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