Filler

Cut and paste palms stand smugly against a big dumb blue sky. The lounger next to me got the “English in town” memo and turned on LA White Noise as I arrived. Filler in every sense.

I leave the pool, well versed in the art of injectables. There’s only day and night at Beverly Hills Hotel, the rest is filler – suits me.

I lean on the counter in the coffee shop as they assemble night outside. If the server found my English weather chat boring then he’s a hell of an actor.

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