Sweetness says I'm tired.

A day the length of a roughed up body.

Useless work is hard work.

Tonight I'm going to blink bourbon and grow olives.

Each olive will be blue and have a pit.

It will be a genuine pit.

It will go round and round between the holding fingers.

It will go down and down like the place they put bodies.

But down at the bottom, the magic is, they're still alive.

And one of them is me looking up and knowing this.