Saturday, The 15th
Morning
IT COULD ONLY BE DESCRIBED AS AN INTENSELY SURREAL experience, a different country, just a stone’s throw from his home with a culture exceedingly its own. There were certainly aspects that leeched off or existed because of his own homeland, but what nation did not borrow and evolve? That was civilization, for better or worse. As things always are: better or worse. Scott let the toothpick droop from his mouth. If smoking hadn’t always seemed so bad, there would be a cigarette in its position, but a thin piece of wood was a cleaner, cheaper, and just-as-cool alternative. His head no longer ached, but his right eye had a throbbing sensation. The pain couldn’t compare to how tough he felt, though. He hoped that people were looking at him and thinking about him. Tha
