Proposition

Let's meet in Key West, in one of those dark, sleezy bars just off Duval Street. We'll drink to ol' Hem and smoke Cuban cigars and sneer at the tourists who never come in but stare from the doorway. Then we'll scribble some notes on beer-soaked napkins and say how lucky we are to have seen it this way.

And when they tell us we have to leave, that a monster storm is on its way, we'll look at them and say, "Fuck it, we're gonna stay, for one last beer..."

LPK
LiveJournal
7.8.2006 (a)