emerging into the sunlight. we criss-cross paths, he in his flop, me in my flip, she with the bag that goes thumpthump against a hip. faster, into the grass, everyone a member of the club; the white sheets of paper are unmistakable. they duck behind a corner, and i watch wistfully, my tongue searching for fainter tolls. five o'clock, the hour of judgment. eye-to-eye [ we know ] -

the walls are bending.

this will be the best shower and nap in the whole entire expanse of my existence.

pink petals. and she dreams...