Seven mile run in a lightning storm at dusk to a bar packed with good friends. Running home after a couple of pints, the streets blacked out and sinister. The dogs on edge, fighting every shadow, looking over their shoulders. The night air unusually clean, cool and electric.
Swing dancing at a little honkytonk till three in the morning.
Waking up in tears.
Whiskey and coffee for breakfast, reminiscing: about missed calls at four in the morning, the girl I might love who doesn't say hi, and last night's other littlest heartbreaks.
Time to go for another run. Sometimes I love this town.