The internet said low of 35. I drove the shy kid home and quickly returned. What I did when I got back didn't look like what I was really doing. I'd have to explain the intentions of ten different people. What was important was that I woke up in my clothes again.
An image of a person with the impulse to bring their guitar somewhere entered my head. The image had my apartment in it. I was in my apartment. The easiest way to say it was to say that my apartment was floating.
The party was a gathering of old friends from the hotel. No one expected Chuck to be drunk upon arrival. No one performed badly, though. In fact, Chuck had us all laughing in minutes. Whatever people felt before we got drunk was gone, but returning tomorrow. My friends are sleeping to the noise of a giant fan.
In minutes, I'll receive a memory, like a trinket. The thing had an interlocking, internal structure. One piece broke under a lot of pressure from my finger nail. My finger nail felt like a piece of paneling being pulled back, but the thing came apart first.
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