If you've never met the Sunday Scaries, you're luckier than I.
They come from bright fluorescent and cheap linoleum.
They stomp about in broad strokes.
In short, bad deal.
This morning after dusting off my forlorn passions, I sought refuge.
As always, it was granted. Asylum. Shelter.
She greeted me like an old friend.
In short, a reunion.
You look different now, the only words I spoke. It was still her.
As always, she listened. Words weren't her way.
It was still her. Waiting patiently as ever.
In short, a new chapter.