bicycleI saw her she saw him he saw me and we all saw more people who saw us and other people. We all kept seeing each other and walking at the same time. We almost smiled, almost. But we did not, almost none of us.

Saturday mornings with heavy hangovers and coffee cups that barely fit in hands.
Saturday mornings as light as the feather of an unknown bird, that saw other unknown birds who saw other unknown birds. Some of which pooped on some of us. Lucky birds wasted no time ever. Or worried about clean underwear.

A familiar face in the crowd makes almost half a heart beat skip. What kind of familiar? No idea.

Did we get paid yesterday? Shit yes. Still don’t want to check bank account. Don’t want to do things that make it sad.
How about some Beatles and tea? That’s a happy thought. Like lazy bicycles and their shadows.


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