Replacing the deletion of concrete afternoons with colored right angles. Hands grown weak from a pandemic. Yellow and pink and orange smeared with chalk and blood. Week-long fatigue belied by denial. Summoned by breathing lungfuls of dust. Long walks through faceless crowds. Finding fewer frowns on zombie lips than I would expect. My shadow suppresses a limp to stay in lockstep. Garbage carefully littered, twiceover, across half a mile of tile and rail. Etched into memory for no reason other than gratitude.
4:03 p.m. - 2022-12-09
Recent entries:
Joy Tamping - 2022-12-21
Falling Pink Petals - 2022-12-15
The Math of Mediocrity - 2022-12-15
Retrieved Evidence of Solipsism - 2022-12-15
Don't Forget to Remember - 2022-12-09
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