Ten.Two Thousand, Seven Hundred & Thirty-Three
D-Day.
He’s always sitting outside on his deck in the morning. I think he lives alone; I’ve only ever seen his silhouette in the kitchen. I never wear my contacts on my walk, so I never know if he’s looking at me, so I pretend that I’m so locked in that I don’t notice him.
Moody, fall-like sky.
I’m going to be really late today.
I don’t even recognize myself.
I keep trying to get people to fight the system, but they are too scared.
He sends a TikTok link to the family chat and asks if he can make the dish for dinner. For the whole family? Of course you can.
Where is my car key?
I can’t find it because it isn’t here.
To Reddit, or not to Reddit.