Soundless thoughts on weary nights

Maybe I can curl up into a fetal roll and cross my arms and clench my fists and shut, shut, shut the world out.

Or wear waist-length hair and open my arms and look up at the sky and run to the horizon on dew-topped grass.

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Yeah, same pinch bub: We're both commitment-phobes.

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Today I wore my long black coat to work. A lot of people probably did, the streets looked visibly duller. Today I got my first static shock in months. Oh my god, winter is here.

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At midnight, I tore away the aluminium foil and slowly placed the heavy waffle (loaded with promise to deliver) on the plate. I opened the takeaway containers full of joyful accompaniments. I cut through the then-sauce-now-paste. I heated. I scooped out generous spoonfuls of the nut-buttery caramel that had melted into the little square bowls of the waffle. I forgot my fatigue for a few quiet moments.

(No No darling, thank YOU for being such a wonderful guest.)