We went through three bottles of wine and two plates of pasta. By the end of the night we had befriended a gay couple, knocked silverware off the table and fallen onto the bed in a fit of drunken passion. I fell asleep. He carefully unzipped my dress and opened the window a crack. He brought me a glass of water. He stretched out next to me and closed his eyes. And when I awoke—my mouth on his shoulder, my hair in my face—he rolled closer and dropped his arms around me, momentarily postponing the headache that ensued.
Subway MapSubway Philosophy is about New York, culture, sex, publishing, memories, alcohol, or a combination of the above. Originally taken from drunken musings on the subway, it has evolved into something extraordinarily similar to most young blogs: which is to say, redundant, romantic, and woefully introspective.
Current Subway ReadingWhite Teeth