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| January 2005 / Volume VI / Issue I | |||||||||
| Doug Draime Near The Border Line The motel was on the outskirts of a town, from a drunken John Houston movie... I remember the exact placement of the 5th of Johnny Walker Red, sitting next to the glasses, on the night stand but I don’t remember her name. Her eyes were light blue and like dimming bar lights, flickering over my shoulders, always looking at the graying adobe. I kept the tv on, and I must have rolled 10 joints. She liked it from behind bent over the metal desk, those lovely shadow-eyes blinking on and off at the walls. She never smiled once and gave me one word answers to my questions, only looking at me when I turned away. She didn’t even look up when I paid her $20 more than she said she was worth. |
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