Good evening lover,
I went home at around 10 tonight. The grouch that is our dear friend dropped me off in front of your former nest on his way for drinks.
The rain had been reduced to a faint drizzle, and I hopped on the first bus in line – a big, newish, green one.
The first entertainer on board was a guy with a slightly out-of-tune guitar singing Indonesian ballads. I’ve seen a fair amount of that so I concentrated on reading the book with the lonesome fireworks artisan character who shared your name.
Then a few pages away from the end I was distracted by a distinctively early 90s hip-hop tune and looked up to see a man in his late 20s perhaps, carrying a stereo and breakdancing to the song.
Om'bak 