ultravioletemily
She was a native to this town, but that didn't make it any less foreign. Sometimes she walked the streets and she could hardly see the world as it was now -- all she saw was her memories. And then she'd happen upon a corner where an old club had been and see a brand new pharmacy and she'd wonder if she really knew this town at all. The natives were underground now, you had to look for them.
After the disco, everything's quiet. Everything's dim in comparison, too, because nothing is quite like the noise and the color and feeling that you are unbreakable and so is everyone else, the feeling that your armor is the neon lights and the music which thumps in your ears like an earthly heartbeat.
The sunlight was beaming down at the bottom of Ashby, right where the ocean meets the land in a strange little kind of peninusla and he handed me the bag of weed and I think I said thank you. The boats were still on the water and the Golden Gate Bridge was oddly, clearly visible. The silence was complete, until someone’s old BMW rolled in next to us, the engine coughing like it had lung cancer.