January 4•James Chen•7 min read
That Awkward Silence: When Your Worlds Don't Collide, They Just Crash
The vinyl booth cracked against my thighs. He was talking about Iowa farms; I was thinking about dodging bullets in Inglewood. We picked at cold fries, and I felt that familiar pang—this was a mistake. Then the jukebox clicked. A shared rhythm in the noise.
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