Short Spring, Or: Leaving Los Angeles
When I returned home later my roommate informed me of something going on the following weekend in WeHo that sounded quite obviously like an orgy.
When I returned home later my roommate informed me of something going on the following weekend in WeHo that sounded quite obviously like an orgy.
There was no thunder, no glowing doorway, no mysterious wind blowing through the apartment, and no choir of angels politely alerting me that physics had submitted its resignation.
The deck simply felt heavier.