September 2011
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Happily Ever Writing, P.: "After Party" →
pariskimwrites:
He’s feeling the need for coffee, he’s gone wrong enough with the Patron.
He never wants to see a Redbull can again.
Barely making it to the front door of the second-story drab of a place he wouldn’t quite call home— as if there is nowhere else— Joyce kisses him on the cheek and seems to dance…
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hitting up four different new cafes in one week.
that’s how i have a good time on small amount of money.
i love the City.
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new hurr, don't curr.
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