pretty high and active, my friend and i, walked around the city neighborhoods with the sole intent to find drunk college girls.

we made a half-assed assesment of the comatose'd streets and walked into the park saying how the college girls missed out; or had already passed out.

on the way to the bench i fumbled around my jean pocket to grab my knife; picked up a long branch under a tree as we passed.

when i sat down i began to shave the branch of its bark. my friend took selfies.

~10 minutes of shaving later, i propped the branch against my shoulder to cut off a few protruding bumps--like baked moles.

he asked, what are you doing?

making a walking stick.

that'll take a long time.

i know.

mid-scrape i looked over at him and remarked, this is what it must feel like to play cello.