A Bit More Than Less

You’re staggering down the sidewalk, cuz’ you’ve had a bit more than less. You know, because the bartender asked, shortly before you left, closing the place down with your last order: don’t you think you’ve had enough?
But, oh hell, you think… no. I want more. A little bit more.
So there you walk, so to speak, in the early hours of the morn’, thinking that you want more. But all the bars are closed. Going up a quiet little side-street on the way home, you fall in to the well-trimmed hedges on the side. Laughing out loud, you lie there, in the shelter behind the bushes. Thinking about what people will think when they see your legs sticking out on the sidewalk on the other side, you have to laugh even louder. It’s fucking hilarious.
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It’s a lovely night, so you decide to lie there for a while and look at the stars. Everything is fine, the bushes support your waist comfortably, and you feel the cool lawn behind them on the back of your head, like the hand of a lover.
With a sigh of contentment, you settle in. It’s so wonderfully peaceful. You wouldn’t want anything less than that, and you can’t ask for more.

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