Ten.Two Thousand, One Hundred & Ninety-Nine
The gray skies are comforting.
No more peanut butter and chocolate protein shakes. No more avocados. I settle for oatmeal with dried cherries.
She says they’re at the capital today. That Trump is supposed to be there.
If I don’t dance at my desk, I will fall asleep.
“Just bored,” I say. “Just bored.”
Something about all of this feels kind of silly to me. But it’s beeter than what I dealt with before.
Parking lot conversations. It’s cooler than I thought it would be. Sour Cream and Onion chips.
A kick of wind and a broken glass.
Glowing gladiolas.
How seriously should I take this?
