Cold pressed apple fluids left outside in a large jug
In the dead of winter the water freezes on top
Driving the flavor into a more concentrated solution below
Each time the blah ice is then removed and the process repeats over and over for months
Rewarded finally with a fermented drink that tasted of sunny autumn days and patience
She felt so cold and lethargic. Today was just one of those days.
He handed her a whiskey, and she threw it back
Oh it burned on the way down, but it then warmed her middle nicely
That soon spread throughout her body and things weren’t as bad anymore.
Maybe you feel life is a bit to chaotic lately
Everything keeps adding to the clutter of your days
Sometimes there can be beauty in the random
You just need to catch your breath and see it
Rock ‘n roll blaring out the speakers
As her convertible rattled down the old dirt road
Determined to enjoy one of the last warm fall days they sang along
If her and her girlfriend were off key, they didn’t care
Only thing that mattered was what song was next
Remember when this was the coolest thing since sliced bread?
Everyone either had one or wanted one.
Those were the days!
Realize that it’s now available again?
Only now when you get it you will discover how much it sucks now
Tribulations were the least of Lydia’s worries
Racing against the end of days was a real thing
If she was successful, everyone would survive
And if she failed, well, that really wasn’t an option
Lifting her eyes to seek whatever divine help she could she entered the fray
The sensation of someone’s foot stomping down on her was all too real
Reducing her to a bundle of pulsating overstimulated nerves
Even getting out of bed on those days was met with dread
And yet she kept working on surviving day after day
Damned if she wasn’t willing to bite back
When seven days had gone by
Everything had changed completely
Everyone had gone full zombie on her
Killing her hopes for humanity in such a short period of time
It was one of those days. Really it was one of those days, on steroids. Still, Peter tried to keep a smile on his face. It wouldn’t help to complain. Everyone would just blow up if he did.
His friends would probably tell him he had “first world problems”. He hated that phrase. His problems were big enough to make him feel swamped, so in his mind they were still problems.
Peter had cut himself at work, there was blood all over his clothes, and now he had to dispose of not one, but two bodies. Life just wasn’t fair!
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