twenty january
twelve : twenty-six a.m.

he smelled like he always does and i wanted everything to last a long time but i had to go and he came out and helped me scrape ice off my windshield and we were laughing and scraping and the snow kept falling and it just made me think about what it's going to be like when we're living in the city or the country or the suburbs and it snows and we'll go out and scrape off the windshields and windows together and things will be perfect and gorgeous and forever.

the sky is pink. i can see everything.

music : silence
literature : nick bantock
fixation : snow; cranberries; midcity camera