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Summary
Inside the trunk of a stranger's car, I think I fell in love with the moon in my housemate's eyes.
I mean, it could have been the drugs.
There was a 99.9% chance it was the drugs.
I was still laughing, and so was he, and it was the kind of hysterical giggles that reminded me of being a kid—ones I couldn't control– the two of us rolling into each other with every speed bump, which somehow made everything funnier.
It started with questions like, “Where are we?” and “Where are we going?” and then quickly devolved into, “Since when have you had three heads?” followed by, “When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie—that’s amore—”