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.