For B's birthday I took her to Ingrid Michaelson.
We are feeling excited.
Ingrid was, indescribable. We are feeling, well, indescribable.
We have to run through a dark, creep infested alley after the concert.
{mild exaggeration. i have to admit it now before B calls me out on it.
there will be another mild exaggeration at the end of the story. don't be mad}.
Okay, more like a poorly lit street, filled with weird people leaving the concert.
Regardless, we are feeling frightened
we are also feeling like running is the appropriate response
We are back in the car. Doors are locked. We are feeling safe.
{time out}
B. Why are we driving into oncoming traffic?
We are feeling like we wished we were running along the dangerous road again.
That was a better feeling.
*this is not an actual action shot. i had to fake it for the sake of the story
We are sitting in the middle of the intersection,
brights beaming on our advancing death sentence.
{mild exaggeration}
We just laugh
We are best friends.
lots of feelings attached to that.
