I plan retreats with my best friends that last an hour or two. We eat dumplings amidst the summer fog of forest fires. We talk about the many facets of life in hushed tones. It wouldn't do to frighten the milling mundane with their strict adherence to comfort. A young woman plays a public piano in the open-court background. I tell myself I'll stop and listen a little later. She's gone by the time I'm done digesting both my dinner and my dialogue.
5:33 p.m. - 2015-08-26
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