
Broken Angel
Hell’s Kitchen lost its very best broken angel today. Outside the window of a little blue Midwestern house, a gentle summer rain pattered. It made it feel like the whole world was mourning for her tonight, too. Suffering the blow collectively. Taking the hit. Because sometimes, the universe decides that it’s just going to keep fucking swinging. And it doesn’t seem to matter just how far down you’ve already been kicked–more blows are coming. So I poured myself a drink. Then I broke an earlier promise to not sit stupidly in the rain. And I put on her favorite song. The song I used to endlessly tease her about. Because on that impromptu Big Apple road trip, ill-fated and ridiculous, I …
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