I got back Monday, but I already miss Texas. In that dense heat, I almost dissolved. Meandering towards The Velveeta Room, a little stoned and still hungover, the country cover bands bleeding into loud Texas bar talk and the frantic barkers shouting beer prices. Then swinging in Robby’s purple hammock with pink cake from the supermercado in hand, trying…
© 2024 Max Delsohn
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