docksock
Glass windows, all along the west side of the office.
In the afternoon, our shoes melt to the concrete, and we are stuck there the whole night.
I'm tired.
I feel fine, though.
I had a good time with you all.
You're my friends.
And you make me feel a little less alone.
You are my friends.
Right?
And we drove for an hour along the dark stretch of highway, until we came to a motel.
The sign was half burnt out and the concierge was half-asleep, but it was a place to put our heads while we dreamt of where we were going.