Friday, November 25, 2016


Little Beaver sips his scotch and stares out the window. The Miami sunshine is streaming through the glass, but he's painting raindrops all over it. He's trying to be cool, trying to focus on some other thing than his girl running around all over town. Hell, he's trying to be happy for her. Young lady like that, that's what she oughta be doing. Running round having a good time. He's got everything he needs here, plenty of fine silk pillows, his guitar, his hi-fi system, a nice bottle of brown liquor and a cat making figure eights around his ankles. He sighs. I can dig it, baby.

No comments:

Post a Comment