I woke minutes before the air raid sirens came. Careful routine provided no escape from exhaustion. I packed a handful of iron rations and made do with arthritis and asthma. My shadow was gracious enough to do the menial lifting, while I reconciled aging without grace.
The mouth of a stranger I knew very well was waiting for me at the end of tomorrow. Replacing apotheosii with small talk in an effort to prune my passion like a bonsai tree.
10:53 p.m. - 2016-04-28
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