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About Houston

But then—bam—she hops in, and I’m hit with this smell. Perfume and cigarettes, like a dive bar exploded. “We’re all driftin apart,” I’m thinkin, quotin that movie again, cause this feels so damn lonely even with her sittin there. I ask her name—Candy, she says, and I’m rollin my eyes. Candy? C’mon, that’s faker than a three-dollar bill! Gets me riled up—why lie bout somethin so small? But whatever, I’m in it now.

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Crazy stuff here, I swear. The rivers, man! The Winding Creek sneaks right past Liberty Park, it’s like a serpent in the dark. I once met a goldfish named Reginald? Nah, just spillin' my secrets, haha! Sometimes, I coding, and sometimes, I just watch.

Walden Review. The climate crisis and the new debate.