Improbable fog with wise young woman

Gin. Tornado watch.

Hates war, loves the Blue Angels, dreams of a world without such dilemmas

At the convenience store, I pick up an empty box of Mary Sue Easter Eggs. “A local legend, all sold out!” I exclaim to the patient cashier who rings up Aunt Barbara’s forbidden cigarettes. Monday night, a little drunk, I hold her by the elbow. The fragile moon, the hard street.

The owl in the pine tree. The promise of daffodils. Make the coffee, I cajole myself, and get back out there. 💗