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isthe street sweepers were diligently swishing about yesterday, so now my steps are silent on asphalt again – no crunch crunch crunch of scattered gravel to give me away. i walk fast when i have a goal in mind, easily overtaking little old ladies and mothers with strollers, passing and disappearing in the distance without a sound, like an apparition in a severe coat and a red braid. where did she come from?

the equinox and subsequent theft of an hour means mornings are sharp-bright and the sun hasn’t quite set when i go home, and lunch is takeaway salad on a bench in the light for added vitamin d. it’s almost unbearable and certainly unbelievable that i am voluntarily spending the daylight hours inside, in the stale, dry air and the fluorescent lighting and the fine gray static dust that magically appears on everything in the store if you just look away for a second. feels like i’m wilting. ridiculous and pointless, mostly, and would you like a bag with that? impatient. wanting up, and out, into the woods and far away. roots barely reaching home.

oh, and i’m down to just one layer of tights.

 

 

 

(on saturday, my mother is taking me to jordan)

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