Missed Connections: Montréal
You: Struggling to make consonants, faceplanting against the wall of our apartment building's hallway as you fail to stand up. Covered in unidentified yet beguiling stains, eyes like cavernous trenches you want to drop a rock into to see how long until you hear the echo of it falling.
Me: Sweatshirt bulging with what may be muscle and covered in decade-old drywall compound stains. Face like an uncooked perogi. More stains. Standing there with my girlfriend. Calling 911 for everybody's safety.
Is it just me, or... did we have a moment?
