Sunday Has Consequences
Read this slowly. Let the words arrive before you decide what they mean.
Sunday. Woke up feeling as though somebody had replaced my legs with badly assembled copies. Mom looked at me at breakfast and said nothing, which was worse than commentary. Mass. Lunch. Nap. Woke up confused. Tea at five, four biscuits. Edo came online and asked how last night was. I wrote `”LOUD”` and he said this was not a review.
It is today.
Remember me, Eclipse.
Reflections & Dialogue
0 Thoughts
Why?
Because every thought leaves a trace. If something moved you, disturbed you, softened you, or made you think, leave it here, quietly.