An Average Night

It’s a Wednesday night

And I expectedly find myself sitting in a car

Making pointless conversations

With the closest thing I have to a companion

Talking of our sadly minute sexual triumphs.

In between the most random quotes of our dialogue

We stare

And wonder

About dozens of careless patrons

As this car is parked outside of a gas station,

Symbolically named ‘Square One’.

Two cars sit to our left

And as the operators shake hands and part ways,

We mock their infant drug deal

And scoff at the dressing patterns

Of the modern students of our former high school.

We read to each other the words of a poetic story teller

From our ash-covered laps.

As we choke our lungs

With paper-coated sticks of poison,

We drown our emptiness

In the juice we paid for in silver and copper.

With a spark of his lighter

And a drag of his cigarette

He looks at me and asks

“Is this what our life is?”

Not yet.

Author's Note

just another boring night, hanging out in front of a gas station.

Reviews

[.]

Brilliant! simply..your on fire LOL

[SharkBite]

I liked it because you were able to so vividly paint a picture in my mind of this scene. And the ending....superb as always.