I read my play. And it’s terrible.
My best boots have gone missing.
The date was broken.
Anger welled up.
I drank the last of the marigold tea. Two out of three little red Scottish tea tins are empty now.
I saved the rest of the ice cream from freezer burn after I ran in the freezing cold.
I endured the mall. Spoils were won.
Another dream I had is sidling back into the queue deflated and unrealized.
When I made the apple crisp I remembered the frozen blackberries.
I put on mascara for nothing. It ran when I did. Now, I have to get it off.
The wind is still moaning. Winter is here for its audition. It’s killing it. I suspect it will get the part.
I’m feeling a little sadder today than I have felt on some other days. And when that changes again, I will also enjoy that contrast.