The night sky was indigo and smattered with a few drooping stars which I took note of as the security guard passed a wand over my crotch. He did not look up at the stars with me. Earlier, I thought—descending into Nashville at daybreak—that the sky was different here, in an unburdened and slow way. The day had passed without incident: blissfully ordinary, save for the man with a rifle and a half-smashed bottle of Jack Daniel’s lingering beside the Uber which took me to the motel.
What I learned at Taylor Swift's house
What I learned at Taylor Swift's house
What I learned at Taylor Swift's house
The night sky was indigo and smattered with a few drooping stars which I took note of as the security guard passed a wand over my crotch. He did not look up at the stars with me. Earlier, I thought—descending into Nashville at daybreak—that the sky was different here, in an unburdened and slow way. The day had passed without incident: blissfully ordinary, save for the man with a rifle and a half-smashed bottle of Jack Daniel’s lingering beside the Uber which took me to the motel.