. . . kind of like a journal entry. He holds a bottle for you to see, and for a moment part of the room and this man’s face turns a hazy orange color, foggy in areas with a kind of floating drug-dust that after a while you pretend is Christmas snow.
highfriendwelcome
Your words have texture and hold weight. Awesome.
Texture. I like that.
Thanks very much for the kind words.
You’re welcome!