Friday Night

skatesWe were supposed to go ice skating. We didn’t. Ice skating was cancelled for one reason, and then another. The night grew cold. I felt sick, anyway. We didn’t go ice skating. I had sweet vodka gingers instead. The truck’s rearview mirror was broken. It reminded me of a Pearl Jam song I liked in high school. Instead of ice skating, we played charades in the back of the red-lit, black-tiled bar. It was cold, too cold for the ice, and the winter’s ambivalence blew slow down the salty Brooklyn streets.


One response to “Friday Night

  1. Short but powerful. I saw everything you wrote about and felt many emotion kick me in the gut at once. I don’t know how you were feeling when you wrote this, but I do know I liked it a great deal.

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