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Lisa Schlosberg - My Stories
My Short Stories

Angel

Our last night in Hong Kong was a success. I had just gotten home alone and I was on the ninth cloud of intoxication. I was coolly gliding through the streets of my own world, feeling at complete ease and without concern. My friends were where they had to be, I was where I had to be, and I loved everything about that night. I spent the first part dancing and partying with a thrilling combination of people I’ve loved for a while and people I’ve only known but still manage to love after a month. Then I left with a guy who woke up a jukebox at a completely empty and intimate wine bar to spin me around and dip me to feel good tunes neither of us will remember the names to. I was content with no longer being out, but I wasn’t content with the night being over. When I got back to the hotel, I remembered the cigarettes in my pocket. I do not smoke cigarettes. But the last few nights reminded me of how these bad boys hit you, and I was abroad, drunk, and not feeling at all like thinking into the future of…

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