Fat and dull
Where did it go, there was something meaningful, something worth taking about tomorrow, something worth making a little note, perhaps the beginning of a missive, or an epistle. But then the images flashed up on my phone and I opened the packet of biscuits and now I am fat and dull.
Wound, not like a spring, no, the rubber band has stretched its way into a groove, cutting of the vitality it has through the impertinent use of that vitality: its elasticity. Wound tight, without movement or, perhaps, without potential.
May 23
A fitting way to start a new month is to take the next step, one foot in front of the...
