Kälteschlaf –
die Jahrhunderte
fliegen vorbei
Kälteschlaf –
die Jahrhunderte
fliegen vorbei
Silky
smoke, with a hint
of leather – succulent
spice from the cigar teases my
palette
“Murphy was an optimist.” Randy smiled to himself as he fingered the faded words on the wall. The room was spartan, with only the essential bed and toilet. It wasn’t much larger than a prison cell, but he would miss it. The crowded walls were covered with hand-drawn peace signs, scribbled cartoons, and depictions of marijuana plants. Hours of Randy’s idle time reflected in the...