happy constitution day

Sly drank a Leo on the curb. He’d come to do the laundry. An open truck of migrant workers went by, about a third of them grinned at him so he gave them a thumb back. He went into the laundry and there was hungry cat there. It miaowed and miaowed, no food around, nothing open. A scraggly black thing with bright yellow eyes. It came up to Sly and sniffed him, miaowed, then left around the corner to beg off someone better.

Sly did the laundry and went home. In the drawer, he noticed some tiny ants in his weed stash, really tiny brown little things, harmless. he rolled a joint of the stuff and lit it up, it was nutty and sweet.

At 11am he took a grab bike 10kms south of Chiang Mai for 165 baht and walked back towards Chiang Mai in the blue sky sun. He walked down the road with the trucks and bikes streaming past. He’d heard that it wasn’t the destination but the journey that mattered. He’d heard people mention that regularly online or in the papers.

On the way, he found a small silver crucifix lying on the floor outside a closed ramshackle bar. A hut just off the curb, everything locked up and dead in the sun. The bar had 2 or 3 low square rusting outdoor tables with metal trashcan ashtrays on them. the floor was covered in empty cans and bottles collecting dust. Sly got bored of walking in the sun, his head was creaking hot and wet, he could hear moisture squeezing through the thin alleys of his skull

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