I saw a friend today, oh boy

I haven’t seen Sasha in 12 years.

She’s a very pretty dyed blonde now, and she has breasts, as do I, but otherwise, little has changed.

The wind is whipping up snow, and I don’t think I will ever forget how she sat in that little wooden chair in a cafe on a street named after the Red Army (which is long gone, just like the time we had together), and blew on her hot chocolate like she used to do when we were children, and made a crack about Khaled’s name.

It’s interesting – that we grew up to be so alike, to like the same things (sex, independence, theological pursuits, horseback-riding, ciggies after a crappy day at work etc.), to live apart from our families, and cut our hair in similar fashion. It feel as though, in some way, there lives my twin on the outskirts of this Great and Terrible City.