Night of the 47

I almost didn't skate at all, even though the day was pristine and bright and cool. The evening fell suddenly, and I had spent all day inside, so I grabbed a couple of asahis and went ot the three stair park.  The breeze tinkled the windchime and the city was already empty, even though it was only about 21:30. The wind had knocked down some little twigs. I kept hitting them and snorking to a stop. At first, everything was too hard. I played a game with myself. Everytime I got a different trick, I I took a sip of beer. They all had to be curb tricks, because I'm trying to be a good neighbor and make too much noise. Also, the cops showed up last time I skated there. There isn't really all that much else to say about the session. I could see two stars overhead. It got cold enough that the wax sounded like an empty glass bottle when it dropped on the ground. My **** looks so much like my **** now that I can't tell one from the other by the marks. This is extremely pleasing for me. Also, the mystery marks that I've been puzzling over are from *****s. I landed more new variations than I think I ever have in one night; ****** *** ***, ****** ** ***** ** ***, ***** *****, ***** *****, ***** ***** *** ***, ** **** ***** ** ***, ***** ** **** * ****, *-* *** ***, ***** ****** ** *** ***, and possibly even something that I'm forgetting. This has been a good deck. It isn't showing signs of imminent breakage, but it's got a few little cracks now, the tail is delamming, and there's very little paint left on the bottom. Even if it goes next session, it'll go down in history as one of my all time favorites.