photo credit


i got you at that little hippie shop on the east side. it was a mellow, humid summer day.

the inside of the shop was painted in mossy green frames around large built-in glass casings. all manner of beads, sarongs, and what i assume were sea creature parts, dangled from the ceiling. as i foraged through the patchouli scented jungle, i realized i wanted my own pipe. i wouldn’t have to share my college girlfriend’s pipe anymore.

yeah, so i liked that one.

it was a really fun day. i was in high spirits bringing my new pipe home on the bus. it was a rose gold color. the neck was completely twisted like a corkscrew. it was proportionate. it was perfect and shiny and clear.

pipe, we shared many good times.  i wish i had a photo of you but i *just* (wisely, i thought) deleted the photo from my snapchat memories the week before.

before i smashed you on the kitchen floor by accident. and then you were in four pieces. and i super-glued you together overnight, but saw a cyanide warning on the glue bottle in the morning…




i'm nicole. head in the clouds, or heart in the future?