Wednesday, July 19, 2006


Whenever I smell asphalt, I think of Maureen. That's the last sensation I had before I blacked out; that thick smell of asphalt. She said she'd fix my bike. Free. No strings attached. I shoulda've known then that things were never that simple. Yeah, when I think of Maureen, I think of two things: Asphalt, and trouble.

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