I was shooting pool, and my hand -flat on the table, stick on top of the backside of my palm.. between my middle, and ring finger, pointed at the target, with only 5 balls left on the table.. it felt like I was alone, on my favorite table at a bar I used to frequent..
wake up, on the trailer floor, and im back here.. far from my job, far from Corona, my hometown. It was just a dream, this thing I used to do, this game I used to play, and was pretty good at. I have dreams about it now, and haven't played anymore, since. I hear that back by my old house the bar shut down, that no-one I know is there anymore, that the place isn't (obviously) the same, and that it's a different name, total different staff, and no more billiard tables inside. I miss playing. I miss spending time with ten racks all to myself and a few pitchers to drink solo, alternating between going outside and coming back in to continue.. I miss those days of no time, just me, my beer and a skill being developed..
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