A day of yawning punctuated by the poly-substance addiction, loss of everything, walking the streets all night every night, and commercial sexual exploitation of other people and my own memories of other times and other lives. Kissing a girl in a parking lot and the way it stays with you evolving into a point of reference only you make any meaning of. Dinner is baked cod with gin and tonics. You try speaking the only Polish word you know to a misidentified Slovenian. It doesn't go over well. Outside, ice is falling from the sky, the winds are coming up, and the roads have frozen over. The peepers have gone silent.
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