The jeans were getting harder to get into and the beers harder to get out of. The beers were getting easier to get into and the jeans to get out of.
The reclining chair was bent and sagged but I pulled it into the driveway for what light there was, mid-afternoon.
I opened the pod doors and put on New Order and it felt dated, like me.
Spring got pushed into the mud again by winter, taunted and bullied.
Dawn and I cuddled in the morning for a moment lying there, wondering when it would end.
I noticed my forehead more each morning as I slapped cold water on my face in the hand sink.
Driving home from work I thought about my old car and like my body, I would drive it into the ground. Lights not working like they should, false warnings. Still a good car, a good frame. Try running into it, good luck.
And I continued to work on the “care but don’t care” balance with work. And smiled and thought all this is temporary. What writing I can make, what love and kindness, I want that to stay.