Thursday, May 5, 2016


"The trains were fuuuucked tonight," Katie says as she gets home. The house smells of tacos I made for Cinco de Mayo, and I've been keeping the fixins warm waiting for her to arrive.

She explains to me the whole story: her train was stopped, and they were told it was because of train traffic in front of them, only to find out that it was a police search.

I'm still in the kitchen finishing up when I hear from the bedroom, "And the cat threw up on my shirt...on two shirts."

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