foxy

Day 20: Morning Tea

I sat all through the isolated night of another numbered day and waited for the quarantined morning to rise out over the sickly and fearful City of Wayne.  I waited with smoke-filled eyes, blinking hot and red, not from an underlying undiagnosed infection, but from self-imposed sleepless anticipation and lingering artistic nervousness.  I waited with …

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bio-hazard

Binder Notes

When you strip it all away, there is only the experience of us left, somewhere past all the lies and all the hurt intentionally inflicted for the sake of a foolish argument supposedly won.  It sticks stubbornly there, beyond the unnecessary daily dramas that constantly unfolded, relentless in their intrusions.  It remains a lingering monument, …

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