Synopsis
The remains of the last cigarette were in the ashtray on the dresser.
The ripped jeans were in one corner of the room, the favorite black coat in the other.
The last piece of pizza was decomposing on any plate.
The guitar was covered in dozens of compositions in already familiar roles.
The typical disorganization of a lifetime.
The typical Thursday dawn.
Just another day the same.
Or not.
LHistoire terminée~5min de lecture
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