RuinsOfSpaceStations

The curtain of steam reveals nothing but empty tables and chairs, a rainy day, and a wet empty street. The conversation about the devil in a pretty smile as lost as the background music. They named this tea "Ave Maria™" in this café. "An exotic blend of kiwi, strawberry, and lychee nut" My lips and tongue know nothing but and Ave Maria™ No honey, no sugar, it's good on its own. I haven't felt okay while having nothing. A new taste, a new feeling. This is okay. 

Fair Weather You would drown in the seat. The clock marked sixty kilometers per hour but it felt like two-hundred. You drew a forest in a fogged up corner of the window, and got lost. Outside it would rain and it wouldn't The sky as undecided as you. You're something that floats and doesn't float. Something the waves bring and don't bring. Its dry where I stand, I'm not wetting my shoes anymore. I'll just smile from here. Maybe I'll wait and if sirens don't evolve legs for land, It was a nice view either way.

A rusted, black exterior of an abandoned 1979 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am. A youth walked up to the side of the car and pops open the gasoline tank. He lifts up a jug and refills the car. Once he’s sure that the car has a full gas tank, he walks up to the front and mutters “I can’t believe nobody did this before…”. He then gets under the dash and splices the two red wires and starts up the car. The boy grinned as his hands gripped the white, leather steering wheel. He began to slowly drive the car out of the sandy ditch on the side of the road where the antique car had long since been abandoned. The sound of the wheel