Ten.Two Thousand, One Hundred & Thirty-Four
Work-from-home Friday.
I know I have things sitting on the printer tray at work, but I’m not going in for that.
Thick fog weaving itself through the trees. A singular white light across the way.
It’s soon. So soon.
Toinght’s drive will not be so bad.
The competing feelings of contraction and expansion. I am bigger than this, and yet, I feel too contained.
But what is it that you really want?
Snack shack popcorn while sitting on a cold bleacher. This is the turning point in the weather. The first Friday night where some hot hands or gloves are needed.
Noticeably less screaming today. It’s almost laughable.
How is it already 1:00 a.m.?
