This is a picture of me and Natasha in a liquor store in Clarksdale, taken at about eleven a.m.

Natasha is now back in Australia–she left from Newark airport on May 16th. I left Jersey by train the day before, which allowed for a positively cinematic farewell at the station.

I feel like a giant scab–something thick, hard, and brittle over top of something raw, pink, and very soft…something that will heal, but by no means overnight. I still can’t listen to the Sleepy Jackson or AC/DC. All I want to listen to is this and I don’t want to talk about a damn thing.