(This is entirely a work of fiction done as a creative writing exercise. I have never done any hallucinogenic drugs)
Category: Fiction (Page 1 of 2)
A bittersweet story I wrote a long time ago.
The Back Packer
It was his fourth day in London. He was staying at the Chelsea Hotel, not the famous “Chelsea Hotel”
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A few years ago I used to live in Harvard Square. Its an expensive place to live and I had a low paying job but I got a very good deal on rent. Living in Harvard
Square I was fascinated by the intersection of class, status symbols, ethnicity, and the zillion permutations of hipsterdom. Harvard Square was full of this. I wrote this after observing an interesting such example.
Okay… 
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