Scribbler's Cafe

All hands on the bad one

That hungry creature "restless" is stiring in me once again. I've been homebound, well-behaved, lonely. I've been counting flowers on the wall and conversing in my mind with people I never actually speak to anymore. I remember the girl that ran through the inside and out of this city and the next in tall heels and slinky back dresses split open way down to there. I miss Osaka after dark. I miss the swish swish zoom on the shinkansen on the way to Tokyo. And yes, and yes, I miss all the hands that laid claim to the bad one.

Pure as ivory soap, the woman sang, but I know that every girl likes to get dirty once in a while.

posted by Scribbler @ Wednesday, May 17, 2006