Review: Last Drinks At The Tote
What do you write, really? How do you put this into words? I feel like I’m writing an account of the time I saw ‘them’ bulldoze my primary school, or the year my grandmother’s house was turned into an AV Jennings wasteland. I want to sit in my bathtub, hold last night’s clothes to my face and inhale deeply, because last night the Tote smelled like home.
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