How will we ever get off of this hill alive?
This question I ask myself on a regular basis as I contemplate the pros and cons of the life that I find myself living. I have no answer, of course. One day we must leave, and I expect that that will be the day that my fretting and over-thinking will seem like a positive thing. The wise choice would be to enjoy the view while I have the opportunity, though I find myself planning for any potential disasters compulsively. Hedonism and recklessness have never been my thing.
She is seemingly asleep in the stuffy apartment, and so I feel no qualms with watching. My attention wanders occasionally
13 steps to the bathroom. The same every day. We've been in the same routine for so long that I navigate the apartment from muscle memory alone.
Somewhere between the metro journey home and The Hour, she let me down. I find Piper lying, supine, on the inconveniently-placed bed. The ink on her skin, usually hidden by oversized clothing, glares at me; a reminder of the person who surprised and delighted me several years ago. In this situation, it seems only appropriate to stare; rude to wake her in the midst of something so selfish.
I creep by silently. I do not wake her; half
How will we ever get off of this hill alive?
This question I ask myself on a regular basis as I contemplate the pros and cons of the life that I find myself living. I have no answer, of course. One day we must leave, and I expect that that will be the day that my fretting and over-thinking will seem like a positive thing. The wise choice would be to enjoy the view while I have the opportunity, though I find myself planning for any potential disasters compulsively. Hedonism and recklessness have never been my thing.
She is seemingly asleep in the stuffy apartment, and so I feel no qualms with watching. My attention wanders occasionally
13 steps to the bathroom. The same every day. We've been in the same routine for so long that I navigate the apartment from muscle memory alone.
Somewhere between the metro journey home and The Hour, she let me down. I find Piper lying, supine, on the inconveniently-placed bed. The ink on her skin, usually hidden by oversized clothing, glares at me; a reminder of the person who surprised and delighted me several years ago. In this situation, it seems only appropriate to stare; rude to wake her in the midst of something so selfish.
I creep by silently. I do not wake her; half