Today I had a lecture about belief/religion and the lecturer asked what we believed in and some guy shouted “Sherlock Holmes” and then some other kid shouted back “Richard Brook was innocent” and they glared at each other across the room and then the lecturer just carried on with a slightly concerned look on her face.
It’s actually a good thing that the zombie apocalypse starts in Florida because then the zombies only have one way to go and that’s straight up into trigger happy redneck territory. I give it two weeks before monster trucks and mullets save us.
I think I fall a little in love with people when I catch them in small moments, when they think no one’s looking at them, when they absently twirl a strand of hair between their fingers, when they lick their thumb to turn a page in a book. There’s something beautiful about a person who is lost in a thought, or adjusting their shirt, or is scratching a phantom itch on their arm, or even someone who is looking at someone else like I am looking at them.