On the inescapable.

Hey chat!
Here’s a bonus Enthusiasms this week, on account of me fucking up in prior weeks and not hitting “send.”

<3 J

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Several floors up, the sound floated in and drew me to the window—some guy playing bagpipes in the middle of the street. A whole group of them climbed into the back of a waiting van, parked hazards-on blocking traffic.

Never mind, then, that it’s not even the right instrument, not really. There were good times to be had, and these are worries for another day.

Is there somewhere to go where this isn’t happening? People lined up at the bar in the cold, plastic shamrocks dangling from their necks. I have one idea, I said, hoping to find respite from whatever we were running from.