Never an After Thirst

This was found in San Francisco, last summer, and immediately became a favorite image of mine. For the most part of my twenty-six years of life, my dad has not been around (his choice). I merely was not the child he desired, and I have accepted that, as hard as that is to accept. For the few fleeting times I was allowed in his presence, I distinctly remember a Squirt being in the center console of his truck. One of the traits he and I shared is our love for grapefruit, and I distinctly remember the small handful of times he shared his Squirt with me, engraving it as my favorite drink from an early age.

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