I didn’t get invited to go to Sarah’s house. She would come to mine and sleep over all the time....I never thought I’d go to hers.
Crusted dishes climb up out of the kitchen sink. There’s a pair of crumpled socks on the rug. He’s wearing ripped sweatpants.
How do you know you’re a boozer? Well, you’re a fucking boozer if (There are a multitude of ifs. Prepare yourself, you poor young man):
The two of us were inseparable— much like our grandfathers, who spent their time together overseas in the war as young men; not much older than ourselves. We, on the other hand, spent our time in dim lit pillow-forts...
I watch as we overtake an empty car-carrier, and see the jagged metal framework crashing into the windscreen, tearing into the carriage, into my flesh. Binary lanes, three metres distance, fractions of a second.