Odd Walking Thoughts

If you want help, I’ll help. What the fuck. myat myat. What the fuck does that mean. myat. We’re here and not. An afternoon turned long, with the drinks and the smoke. It had been a long while since this happened. So we sit and talk about a word and how that word is. A man sits on his chair, on the porch, he lights a cigar; the cigar made smoke and he watched that smoke.

-M. Taggart

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