Susan at The Whiskey Hole.
When I close my eyes I see you, no matter where I am, I can smell your perfume through these whispering pines. I’m with your ghost again, it’s a shame about the weather, I know soon we’ll be together, and I can’t wait till then.
Burning down the night. Shooting bullets at the moon.
I’d fall to pieces without the people I love. Regardless the amount of hope or despair it all means nothing with them. Nothing but gratitude for the anchors.
It’s time for another mission. But not something that takes months to plan and days to execute, more so the kind where we don’t really know what the mission is. Like the late night drive into Pennsylvania for fireworks, or the one way trip to Montauk to bonfire on a beach. To do something that really had little to do with the reward and completely about the journey. More importantly, to share that journey.