34. dog do afternoon - Sick Sacraments
34. dog do afternoon “Here kitty, kitty, kitty.” Denver had finally made it out of the bathroom and was moving to the beat of the morning Tamba being broadcast by the local university radio station. Depressed as hell on the warm yet windy overcast autumn morning, he stood on his dilapidated balcony calling for his two cats. “Kitty, kitty. Here kitty, kitty.” Damn, what a fuckin’ beautiful day. A day where I should be beating my breast in glee but I just don’t feel like it. I can’t stand living in paradise. Indeed it was another beautiful day. The morning had broken and birds were chirping in the trees. The smell of fresh coffee wafted over from his neighbor’s kitchen. The streets were silent, empty of traffic. An almost surreal calm permeated the Grid on weekends. It was as if, the whole downtown community had gone searching for something to do and wound up instead eating sticky buns and reading the Bee o...