Happy Hour

by Marlowe Granados

In my defense, I had trouble distinguishing between brooding and insipid.

my hands over his, feeling guilty for creating a sombre moment. I smiled. “Sage, you’re so handsome and generous. Why don’t you buy me presents and I’ll take you for granted. That’s what you really need.” He

When we were younger, everything for the first time always felt the best, or at least the Most, and sometimes getting older feels like striking the same chord and it sounding different.

Intellectuals are funny because they always think you mean more than you say, when sometimes I don’t mean anything at all. Frankly,

only I could exist as perfect lightness, always laughing with my mouth open. I would float through life with ease, believing in my own unserious personality. It takes no effort to convince people you are in fact just that. They start to expect that of you, and nothing more.

He said, “What do you want?” All I could think of was peeling the skin of a Valencia orange in bed on a bright morning with someone pulling me into the covers because they want to spend two or three minutes nestling before starting their day. So I said, “Not much.”

It’s not like art or beauty, where everything can be argued. You either land a little trick or you don’t. People really thirst for that kind of truth in their lives.

Everyone looks beautiful under lights. I am unsurprised that many people, being showered under those bright little specks, fall in love at nightclubs.

Sometimes making bad decisions really takes no time at all. In fact, you realize you’ve been itching to do it all along. Deep down, I think it comes from being so angry at having to restrict yourself all the time. Because in the end, no matter how well you behave, someone will always dash your life’s work away with little to no regard. We are always swimming against the tide. How’s that for justice? If I am reckless, it is because I am tired.

I do wonder whether my memories should stay only mine, or have they ever been?