i barely saw his eyes over the lamp. he was slumped in the red velvet chair against the orange-sponged walls. he had dark eyes and thick hair that went to his shoulders. he had a beard that went just as long. even his eyebrows were full. parked beside him was a black suitcase on wheels. he looked like he was waiting for something, for someone, but no one ever came.
–over coffee at ani’s, santa monica