Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Forty-Nine
A recitation of phrases to get me up and out.
I turn my mat towards the windows so I can watch the sun rise while I sweat.
All I’m missing is the dill. But I’ve taken the last of the roasted chicken.
At least I have them.
Is this his passive way of telling me that I have to come to this dinner?
When you’re given the right words at a moment when you are questioning everything.
Your gut is always right, even when you don’t want to believe it is.
But why? There’s a bigger, deeper reason for all of this that goes beyond the normal.
The last time I wrote one of these was on April 6. What happened in between? So many things that I cannot remember.
What’s the likelihood they are still here?