Play the hits

Cactus Yordy
2 min readOct 12, 2021

Lately, it feels that ordinary pleasures, basic indulgences, are trickling-tickling especially deep down inside my brain stem. Bluefin tuna, a local lager, a few extra hours for a few more pages of my water-stained novel. Chatter and discourse surround the ‘cottage,’ a desperate modern relay towards simplicity, ordinary fervor, beauty in the mundane, stone-ground betterness. As with raw fish served cold over rice, a purple evening haze cast deep within the Arizona sky, discipline in the routine of recognizing small wins and either earthly or heavenly favors elicits euphoria, saying as each piece is gripped tight by the prongs of…

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