2am – corner diner and closing the joint.
Mark sat up slowly, eyes closed, to sip off his coffee. Once erect he opens his eyes, parted slightly, and sips while breathing through his nose and mouth, for the cooling effect.
“Is there anything on your mind, darling?” he asks
Janie shrugs her shoulders and looks off to her left. Her right hand firmly gripping her mug, a cigarette burning, ignored, in the ashtray.
Mark slides back down to prone in the booth seat. Breathing a heavy sigh as he mentally notes,
‘well, then it’s nothing’.
It’s been a long day and tomorrow is going to start with a hell of a hangover.
– Hoc Scripsi
the platitudes of willful resemblance 