We were walking in the golden fall light and watching ducks and my brain was in a tangle, and then I remembered that tiny spaces of joy are sometimes all there is, and that I was in one and missing it, and then I stopped and watched the ducks.
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Last night I was a giant ball of fizzy, sad, grieving WHAT IF. I slipped out at midnight, into the pouring rain and a curiously warm, screaming wind that rattled the trees and the houses, swathed in a long black raincoat and tall green rain boots, and walked and walked until my legs were as tired as my brain. I came home still fizzy but less sad, mostly untangled, with soaking wet knees.
I went out to the porch and big fat raindrops were plopping down onto the sidewalk out of a clear blue sky. "Oh well," I thought to myself, "at least it's not frogs."
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AuthorBitter Water
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. Archives
June 2019
Categories© Francie Nevill and Every Sweet Thing, 2017.
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