It’s that morning, that one.

My hands press into the steering wheel, cold. The morning’s too bright for my thin and tired eyes. I close them but then remember I’m still driving. I glance at the empty thermos in the console and wonder if I have time to stop somewhere to fill it before you notice I’m gone from the house and pick up the phone, trembling like in the movies.

Trio no. 4

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One thought on “It’s that morning, that one.

  1. Pingback: uncle, cousin, ice cream | eastelmhurst.a.go.go

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