Sunday, October 23, 2005

i always remember somthing visceral and extra real about the way my father drank his liquids at the fastfood establishments. he never used a straw or a plastic lid for his soda. i remember him drinking his sips the-whole-way from the wax-coated cup with his mouth and getting the dark-sugary-liquid into his mustache; the sound of the ice jostling for position in the sugary carbonated soup.

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