Design icon Stefan Sagmeister in the excellent Things I have learned in my life so far.
Even with a crippled hand she could still roll a better blunt than most. I think she prided herself on that, on that one unusual trait of hers. I didnt see it. I didnt get the hype. But neither was I a pot head. She, although was a pro, a seasoned veteran burning through neatly organized piles of OG Kush. And more money than she could afford.
I watched her at work, trying to reach that next high, as she pulled the brown paper to her lips and carefully turned it between them. Her breathing was slow and easy, like the waves of the ocean, each one rolling into the next. It was a pattern I had grown to appreciate, unlike so many other happenings that seemed to all be hitting the wall at once. Moments like this always turned into lasting memories, the ones that fester and rot as time take it’s toll.
We hadn’t left her room that day, or even made an attempt to, there was no need. The comfort of boxers and bras was too much to give up. And admittedly I had become fond her buddah belly. Always resting my head on it and staring into her hair framed face whenever the chance presented itself. It was easy to fall her wonderful quirks, It was even easier for a fool with a thing for hair. So I noted her flaws, the subtitles to nick pick, those buttons you push to maker her self conscience and doubtful as to if you’re the One. Every Fox has a glimmer of blood on it’s pristine fur. And it was easier than tripping and stumbling into deep like.
She lite and inhaled the blunt in one smooth motion. As she exhaled the smoke flowed past her lips only to disappear into the deep cover of the darker parts of the room. The mark from last night was still visible on her lower neck. A faint reminded that I had gotten the girl. And that it isn’t wise to a bite light skin girl. It tears the skin and leaves you with glares of disapproval. I must has been staring.
“What are you thinking about” Cassie asked. Handing me the blunt
“This moment”
