new ways

Their sponteneity had been relagated to the weekends. That is how they knew they were old. Growing up. Growing up. Whatever. Every night used to be an adventure. It would start the same but the endings were the surprise. Somewhere around twenty-six or twenty-seven sleep moved up in the priority list along with holding down a job, like a cars passing on the highway. For a moment, their crazy and their responsibility rode side by side, but the latter had pulled ahead. Looks in the rearview were infrequent, but they were long. Life had become routine and full. And good. Yes. The edge was missing. The surprise was missing. The stories were missing. When they had time think about it, their minds split between recapturing that fire and knowing that they did not want to jeopardize this new path. But they needed a spark.

I'm a little too scheduled at the moment, as you can probably tell by the way I'm starting stories and not finishing them!