falling out of practice, of silencing alarms and stumbling to the shower of matching shoes to skirt and scarf to blouse, willy nilly dash to desk days run neck and neck galloping for the checkered flag, no, the finish line where clocks are punched morning and evening, and mondays aren’t mistaken for tuesdays or heaven forbid, fridays. appointments keep their allotted places and there is no need to ask, “what day is this?”
Peace, people!
A trip through life with fingers crossed and eternal optimism.
Doing the best I can with what I have
kind of sad, but not so bad with cheese. cheese not provided.
My streams of thought meet here
Conceptual Photographer and Writer
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Killer Fiction
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Besteesydian
A bit of this...A bit of that...bit of everything...come on in...
Life in a flash - a bi-weekly storytelling blog
MARK PETRUSKA | WRITER
Short essays about novels and other fictional works
By Ian Garrabrant
Home of Micropoetry, Literature, art and philosophy.
Just a fiction writer, trying to reach the world.
I'd curtsy but I'm drunk.
Praying for Eyebrowz 
Though the lady looks cool, it’s so good to fall out of office job practice 🙂
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Agreed. But in the past month I’ve totally gotten confused about what day it was!
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Me too, but it makes like more interesting!
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