Iced Tequila

Pages.

 It's a beautiful Tuesday afternoon in sunny San Diego. 

Have myself some tequila on ice and a head filled with rubbish. 

Yes ladies and gentleman, I the sublime and lacking sense Sophie Marks have nothing to which I can weave you a tale with.

No affairs with border hoppers, no empty truck with pot overflowing and no late nights partying and drinking and losing my mind in ecstasy. None of that unfortunately. 

What do I have you ask....especially for those of you who don't. 

I have missing pieces. Thats right damn it. I have those missing pieces. 

Car keys, last bit of jigsaw puzzle, that button to your favorite blue shirt, the cork that hit roof when you popped the champagne that night, and that bit of a lie you whispered. 

As I sit here swishing my tequila on rocks craving that heavy scent of liquor, I'm thinking of having that second bowl of Raisin Bran and saying damn my digestive tract...for now at least. Now the other more sane side of my brain is working with the dice of life. Waiting for that next held breath and the next fateful roll and the next number to play out. 

Now you ask me, "Sophie...none of this is making any sense, do you know that?"

Why yes I did know that, better question is if I care that it doesn't make any sense. 

Reviews

[S. Georgia]

I rather like this, it's a smooth, informative narrative that shows character and promise. Lovely.

"I have missing pieces. Thats right damn it. I have those missing pieces.
Car keys, last bit of jigsaw puzzle, that button to your favorite blue shirt, the cork that hit roof when you popped the champagne that night, and that bit of a lie you whispered."

That had to be my favorite part, it's very vivid while still remaining minimalistic and interesting.

-S.