The days I felt alive.

An afternoon in the desert... the harsh fluorescent sun... camels on the floor.
Laughter.
Screaming, huddled together, us against all that was wrong.
Water... the drink of life.
Wobbles, tequila abortions... it was a good trimester.
Potato peelers, Pedro the Puerto Rican the potato peeler stealer.
Audio waves from the stereo, the colours, the tunes of an era.

We were the only two people in our whole world.