There's nothing quite as
dead as the dried husk of a
gas station sandwich.
Written on July 1, 2016, on a staircase to nowhere.
It's 2am and I'm hungry. Looks like the only thing that's open is a local gas station. The sandwiches are warm, bathed in a harsh fluorescent white. I could have gone for the meatpies but I was on a health kick and a sandwich is just a tad healthier. Less carbs. All cardboard.