These are days where the weather seems to grow longer with the light-it stretches. Random appearances from old friends and dead friends. Walking down the street, with neons, this is like the first time I was ever here. Newly baked and fresh bread knows nothing but the warmth of the oven. The bread fears the outside world like you fear the inside of your eyelids- teeth come for us all in the end. Ask our friend Tommy, if he were still around, he was always yelling about 'Teeth this and teeth that!' and none of us believed him. Then one night the teeth got 'em, just as crazy as when he told us they would.
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