Originally Posted by SMNaughtywife
I grew up in the midwest, decades ago, and this takes me back.
This reminds me of so many places...so many times...so many feelings...and I can almost taste the dust as I try to wash it away with some vino.
I haven't thought about stuff like this for years.
I haven't felt stuff like this for years.
Riding banana seat bikes to play in abandoned buildings and houses. Cigarettes stolen from relatives packs over time now shared with stories of truth and bullshit and fear. Exploring desolation from which springs so much life. Summer days so hot that a rusty nail would sizzle skin it touched when brushed.
Kisses stolen, and given.
Fistfights so feral, so brutal, it gives me pause even as a man.
Then, driving by years later when given the freedom of internal combustion, and laughing while telling stories of truth and bullshit and fear.
How did I end up past the witching hour on a Friday night, stepping into the Wayback Machine through a window on a "smut" site?